After dinner that night, Cricket told her best friend, Shilo, about the bear jam.
“And he just stuck his hand out the window to feed the bear?” Shilo asked, shaking her head. “That’s crazy.” She walked along the top of Cricket’s backyard fence until she reached the big poplar tree. She grabbed a branch and swung up into the tree.
“I bet I could jump onto Mr. Tanaka’s roof from here,” Shilo called down.
“You’re crazy! That roof is so old, you’d end up in his living room!”
Shilo laughed. The tree shook as she jumped from branch to branch on her way down to the ground.
“Dad says the cat at the stable had her kittens. Do you want to go see?” Cricket asked.
“Sure!”
The girls jumped on their bikes and pedaled up the long hill on the only road out of the village. As they rounded a corner, they both stopped, surprised to see a woman crouching in the middle of the road. She had a bucket beside her. She lifted something from the road and placed it in the bucket.
Shilo frowned at Cricket.
“Not another wacky tourist,” Cricket whispered.
“Remember the woman who picked dandelions for her tea?” Shilo asked, giggling.
Cricket tried not to laugh. “Or the man who scooped elk poop and sold it as organic fertilizer?”
The woman looked up and smiled at them. She wore a vest with lots of bulging pockets, and a ruler poked out of one of them.
“Hello, girls,” she said. “It’s a nice night for a ride.”
Cricket nodded, trying to look into the bucket. “What are you doing?”
“I’m researching these little guys,” the woman said. Three tiny salamanders scurried at the bottom of the bucket. They were the size of Cricket’s pointer finger.
“Those are long-toed salamanders!” Cricket exclaimed. “We read about them in Science last year.” The salamanders were dark green with yellow splotches and stripes on their backs. On each back foot, the fourth toe stuck out, extra long.
“That’s right. I’m studying their migration from the lake to Crandell Mountain. My name is Dr. Pantillo, but you can call me Kate.”
“Hi, Dr. Kate. I’m Cricket, and this is Shilo.”
“Cricket? That’s an interesting name.”
Shilo laughed. “Her real name is Jenna. Cricket’s just a nickname.”
“My grandpa called me Cricket a long time ago, when I collected crickets for a cricket zoo.”
Dr. Kate smiled.
“Salamanders are cool,” Shilo said. She liked slippery things, like toads and snakes.
“Look, there’s another one over there,” Cricket said, pointing farther down the road.
“Uh-oh, a seagull has spotted him,” Shilo said.
“Hey!” Cricket shouted as the seagull hovered over the salamander.
“He’s not your dinner!” Shilo yelled, waving her arms until the seagull took off.
Dr. Kate hurried over, picked up the salamander and gently placed it in her bucket. The girls followed her across the road to the long grass at the foot of Crandell Mountain. A car with a canoe strapped on top went whizzing past them.
“This road is really dangerous for an animal that small,” Cricket said.
“Yeah, at least people slow down for a deer or a bear,” Shilo said. “But they can’t see salamanders on the road.”
“That’s part of the problem for sure,” Dr. Kate said, digging a notebook and pen from one of her pockets.
“Problem? What’s wrong with the salamanders?” Cricket asked.
“There are only two species of salamander here in Alberta,” Dr. Kate said as she wrote something down. “They aren’t endangered or threatened, but Waterton’s population of long-toed salamanders is getting smaller every year.”
“So that’s why you’re here,” Shilo said.
Dr. Kate nodded. “I’m looking for reasons why the salamanders are dying.” She tipped the bucket, and the salamanders slid into the grass.
“Can we help you with your research?” Cricket looked at Shilo. “Maybe tomorrow? We’re going to the stable to see the new kittens right now.”
“Sure. I’ll be here,” Dr. Kate said.
“Let’s go before it gets dark.” Shilo hopped onto her bike. As the girls raced off for the stable, Cricket worried about the salamanders.
“Hey, Peaches, did you go out for a ride today?” Cricket asked, laying her bike on the grass near the corral. A little palomino horse nickered and walked over to have her ears rubbed. Peaches was Cricket’s favorite.
Moses, a big gray horse, stretched his head over the fence. He blew hot breath on Shilo’s neck and bumped her helmet.
“Careful, silly—you’ll get horse drool on me.” Shilo plucked a dandelion and offered it to him. He took it carefully between his bristled lips and chewed noisily.
“Cricket, look,” Shilo said, pointing across the road. “That must be her.”
Cricket turned in time to see a black-and-white cat with a tiny kitten in her mouth disappear through the barn door. “That’s one way to get an animal across the road.”
“Too bad it won’t work for salamanders.”
The girls peeked inside the quiet, dark barn. Cricket squeezed through the door. She saw a flash of white near the hay bales.
“Do you see her?” Shilo whispered.
“She’s back here. Are you coming?”
“Um, no. I’ll just wait here.” Shilo stayed at the door. As tough as Shilo was, she didn’t like the dark at all.
Cricket found the mother cat with four black-and-white kittens curled up between two hay bales. The mother purred. The kittens mewed and wiggled. Their eyes were still closed.
“They are so little!” Cricket exclaimed when she joined Shilo at the door. “Next time we’ll bring a flashlight so you can see them.”
The two friends slid the heavy barn door closed and said goodnight to Peaches and Moses. They hopped on their bikes and sped down the hill into the village.
