3 Among the Wolves Read Online Free Page A

sunlight peeked over the ridge, we saw no more sign of him.
    Our food cache, which we had strung high in a neighboring tree, was still intact. We gathered our stove and pots and pans. Apart from a few dents, everything was still usable. We chose to eat a cold breakfast instead of cooking, to avoid producing
mouthwatering odors a passing bear couldn’t resist. Charlie gobbled his kibble, still edgy, which made us wonder just how far the bear had gone. At one point he looked up from his breakfast with a quiet growl, searching the woods as though his keen ears had picked up a sound beyond our hearing. Several minutes later he resumed eating, apparently satisfied that no danger lurked in the shadows.
    As the sun climbed higher, spreading its long fingers of golden light across mountaintops still blanketed in snow, we loaded our packs and heaved them onto our backs. The bear episode inspired us to leave early.
    Bill led the way while Charlie and I followed. Dogs and grizzlies by reputation do not get along. We kept Charlie on a short leash, although we knew he would welcome another grizzly appearance, another opportunity to protect us from harm and possibly get to chase a bear. He had warned me of polar bears on the ice cap, and now he was alert and ready to warn us as we traveled through grizzly country in the Yukon.
    Our first challenge that day was a dense willow thicket. Our packs tangled with the protruding branches, and our bootlaces straggled loose. Charlie fought his way through the dense undergrowth. As Bill trailblazed, he described the entire area in rather graphic terms while I mumbled something about our poor choice of route. Dew soaked our shirts and pants, adding to our misery. By the time we cleared the entanglement, we looked as though we had walked through a rainstorm. We were drenched and our tempers were frayed. Only Charlie was in good spirits. He shook the water from his thick black coat, showering our already dripping clothes.
    I pulled the clammy fabric of my shirt away from my body as I looked ahead, hoping to detect an open route. But all I could see was more willows. “This stuff is enough to make me wish I had never left home,” I grumbled.

    â€œIt can’t get worse,” Bill said, adjusting his pack over his wet shirt. “Maybe after we clear this next mess of willows, it’ll get easier. If it doesn’t ease up soon, we’ll have to take to the ridges.”
    Charlie was the only one with the right attitude. With a gentle wave of his tail, he tossed his head back and gave a high-pitched bark. A sharp tug on his leash relayed the message that he was ready to travel whether we were or not. Rather than change into dry clothes, we decided to follow and allow the warm sun to dry us. Happily, our luck changed; as soon as we cleared the thicket and rounded a few spruce trees, we were greeted by the sight of open tundra.
    Even though we had to cross areas of soft snow, the footing was solid enough to allow faster hiking compared to our slow start. As we warmed up, our good humor gradually returned. It was lunchtime when we entered a thicket of untidy spruce that soon thinned to an orderly forest of twenty-foot-high trees. Bill noticed a low rocky knoll sheltered by a few shade trees, a perfect lunch spot. Gratefully, we lowered our packs from tired, sweaty shoulders.
    Charlie stretched out full length for his noon nap while we took out a bag of nuts and dried fruit. Two trees made excellent backrests for us, adding to our comfort. But just as we were congratulating ourselves on choosing such a fine site, the sharp crack of snapping twigs in the forest straight ahead interrupted our tranquility.
    In an instant, Charlie was awake and on his feet, staring in the direction of the sound. All at once, a playful young grizzly galloped out of the trees. The large form of another bear, probably his mother, remained in the shadows. The youngster, perhaps a year and a half old and only two