Эрин Хантер - The Sun Trail

We can make this work.

A paw prodding him in the side woke Gray Wing the next morning. He blinked blearily in the light that slanted through the waterfall, and made out Stone Song standing over him.

“Are you okay to hunt?” the tabby tom asked. “I’m arranging the new plan, starting today. Quiet Rain and Hollow Tree are going out, and I’ll go myself. I want to find out if four cats hunting every day are enough.”

“Sure.”

The light from the cave entrance was brighter than Gray Wing had seen it for many days, as if the sun was shining outside. Maybe that’s a good sign , he thought. Better than trying to hunt in a blizzard, anyway.

As he loped toward the entrance he heard the swift pattering of paws behind him, and Jagged Peak’s voice rose shrilly. “Gray Wing! Wait for me!”

Gray Wing turned as Jagged Peak skidded to a halt beside him. “I want to hunt with you,” the kit announced.

Gray Wing suppressed a sigh. “You’re too young,” he replied. “Go and play with the other kits.”

“They only want to do dumb stuff,” Jagged Peak muttered. “Pouncing on a pebble and pretending it’s an eagle! I want to pounce on real eagles.”

“An eagle would just make a mouthful of you,” Gray Wing meowed.

“Would not !” Jagged Peak protested. “I’m big ! I’m the oldest kit—I should be allowed to hunt.”

Reluctantly, Gray Wing admitted to himself that his brother had a point. Maybe it is time he started to train. We could certainly use another hunter.

“What’s the matter?” Quiet Rain asked, padding up to them. “Jagged Peak, are you making a nuisance of yourself?”

“He wants to learn how to hunt,” Gray Wing explained, before Jagged Peak could reply.

He caught a swift flash of fear in his mother’s eyes, as if she was thinking of all the dangers outside the cave for a cat as small as Jagged Peak. “He’s so young…”

Jagged Peak’s fur bristled. “I’m the oldest—”

Gray Wing slapped his tail over the kit’s mouth, earning himself an indignant glare.

“He is nearly old enough,” he told Quiet Rain. When his mother still looked doubtful, he added, “Better he comes with me than tries to sneak out on his own.”

Quiet Rain hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a reluctant nod. “All right.” Turning to Jagged Peak, she added, “Stay with Gray Wing, and do exactly what he tells you.”

Jagged Peak nodded vigorously. His eyes were bright and he began pacing with excitement. “Let’s go!”

Gray Wing held Jagged Peak back with his tail as the kit tried to scamper up the path that led behind the waterfall. “The first thing you have to learn,” he said, “is not to go dashing off. Follow me, and keep quiet.”

Though Jagged Peak’s eyes still sparkled, he settled down and padded after Gray Wing. Quiet Rain brought up the rear. Stone Song and Hollow Tree had already left; when he emerged into the open, Gray Wing spotted them together, climbing the opposite slope.

Quiet Rain caught up to Jagged Peak, hesitated, then mewed, “Good hunting,” before she headed up the rocks toward the top of the cliff.

Gray Wing guessed that she would rather have stayed with her kit, but she knew she had to concentrate on her own hunting.

“Okay,” he began, “the most important thing to remember is that, out here, you can be prey too. Some of these birds are strong enough to fly away with a full-grown cat in their talons. Always be aware of what’s going on above your head. Got that?”

Jagged Peak’s eyes stretched wide. “Got it.”

Gray Wing was relieved that his brother seemed to be taking the warning seriously.

“The next thing,” he went on, “is searching for prey. Charging around is pointless—you’ll just scare the animals back into their holes. Use your eyes and nose, and taste the air for scent. Try it now, and see if you can pick up anything.”

Jagged Peak stood still, his ears pricked and his jaws parted. His gaze swiveled around, taking in the snow-covered slopes; Gray Wing was glad to see that he kept casting glances upward as well.

“Can you spot anything?” he asked after a moment.

Jagged Peak dipped his head, looking disappointed. “No.”

“Don’t worry, neither can I,” Gray Wing told him. “Prey doesn’t usually come this close to our cave. We’ll go and look somewhere else in a moment, but first I want to show you how to stalk. You have to learn to get as close as you can to your prey without it knowing you’re there. How do you think you might do that?”

Jagged Peak crouched down into the snow. “Keep as small as I can?” he suggested.

“Right. But when there’s snow on the ground, don’t drop so low that it clogs your fur and slows you down. Move like this…”

Gray Wing lowered himself into position so that his belly fur was just brushing the surface of the snow. Then he crept forward slowly and carefully. Jagged Peak stayed by his side, copying.

“That’s good,” Gray Wing told him, impressed by how quickly his brother was learning. “And what about scent? How can you stop your prey from scenting you before you’re close enough to pounce?”

Jagged Peak thought for a moment, his whiskers quivering, then grumbled, “I don’t know.”

“Think about wind,” Gray Wing prompted.

“Wind…” Jagged Peak sank into deep thought again. “I know!” he exclaimed at last. “The wind carries scent, so I’ve got to make sure that it’s blowing from my prey to me, and not the other way.”

Gray Wing let out a satisfied purr. “You’ll be a hunter in no time. Now let’s go and see what we can find. Don’t forget to keep looking at the sky.”

He led the way up the slope toward the ridge. “This is a good place for finding snow hares,” he told Jagged Peak. “Remember that their fur turns white in the cold season, so it’s hard to spot them unless they’re against the bare rocks. And they’re very fast, so you need to get as close as you can before they know you’re there. If you end up chasing one, you’ll likely lose it.”

As he spoke, Gray Wing realized that Jagged Peak was distracted, constantly staring into the distance. “Hey—concentrate!” he meowed.

“Sorry.” But after a few more paw steps, Jagged Peak was gazing around again.

Gray Wing stopped, irritated, but before he could speak he spotted movement among the rocks above. The white-furred body of a hare was just visible between two boulders.

Nudging Jagged Peak, he flicked his ears in the direction of the hare. “Want to see if you can catch it?” he whispered.

Jagged Peak’s eyes widened in excitement. Crouching down carefully, he crept closer to his prey.

He’s forgotten the wind , Gray Wing realized, though he said nothing.

Jagged Peak had covered about half the distance when the hare suddenly sat up, its long ears erect and its nose twitching. Then it burst from the shelter of the boulders and fled across the slope, snow spraying from under its paws.

Letting out a yowl of frustration, Jagged Peak hurtled in pursuit. As he was so small and light, his paws skimmed easily across the surface of the snow. Gray Wing raced after him.

At first Jagged Peak seemed to be gaining ground, but the hare was bigger and stronger, and soon started to outpace him. We’re going to lose it , Gray Wing thought, forcing his muscles to bunch and stretch in an effort to catch up.

A heartbeat later, a harsh cry rang out. A hawk plummeted from the sky, talons outstretched. The hare let out a squeal of terror and swerved away, heading back toward Jagged Peak.

The young cat sprang and collided with the creature in a small storm of flying snow. Gray Wing saw a thrashing knot of legs and Jagged Peak’s wildly waving tail.