Эрин Хантер - The Sun Trail

But the hawk hadn’t given up. It dived again. Gray Wing realized that if it couldn’t catch the hare, it would settle for Jagged Peak.

With a wild screech, Gray Wing leaped for the hawk as it bore down. He felt his claws scrape the underside of the hawk’s wing. With another harsh cry the bird mounted into the air, higher and higher until it was only a black dot in the sky.

Once he was sure it wasn’t a threat anymore, Gray Wing spun around toward his brother. He saw Jagged Peak standing shakily on all four paws, the body of the hare stretched motionless in the snow in front of him.

“I got it!” he exclaimed. “I’m a hunter now!”

“Terrific!” Gray Wing praised him. “You did really well. But don’t forget,” he added, “you still have a lot to learn.”

The hare was bigger than Jagged Peak, and he needed Gray Wing’s help to drag it back to the cave. The rest of the Tribe gathered around, exclaiming in wonder when Gray Wing told them how Jagged Peak had made his catch.

“Prey had better watch out!” Lion’s Roar gave the young cat a friendly prod with his tail.

“It’s your prey,” Gray Wing pointed out to his brother. “So you can eat first.”

Jagged Peak’s eyes gleamed as he tore into the hare. Watching him gulp down mouthful after mouthful, Gray Wing reflected on how hungry the kit had been for so long. This could be the first good meal he’s ever had .

There was still plenty left when Jagged Peak drew back. “I’m stuffed!” he declared.

The rest of the Tribe was just beginning to eat when Quiet Rain came back, a hawk dangling from her jaws.

“You had good hunting,” she remarked, dropping her prey beside the remains of the hare.

“Jagged Peak caught it,” Gray Wing replied, while Jagged Peak puffed out his chest with pride.

Quiet Rain’s eyes glowed as she gazed at her young son. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Gray Wing, thank you for teaching him so well.”

As Gray Wing settled down to eat his share of the prey he wondered once again what their departed Tribemates were doing. It still felt strange that there were so few cats left in the cave. I hope they’re all safe, and that they’ve found enough to eat.

“Can we go out again?” Jagged Peak mewed when Gray Wing had finished eating. “Hunting’s really exciting!”

Gray Wing glanced toward the cave entrance and saw that the short day was already coming to an end, dusk gathering beyond the waterfall.

“Not now,” Quiet Rain responded, before he could speak. “It’s time for you to go to your nest. You can hunt again tomorrow.”

“But I’m not tired!” Jagged Peak protested. “I can—” His words were interrupted by an enormous yawn.

“No more arguing,” Quiet Rain mewed briskly.

She nudged Jagged Peak across the cavern to their sleeping hollows, and Gray Wing followed. As he settled down, he realized once again how empty the nest now felt. He desperately missed the feeling of his brother’s fur against his.

I wonder where the traveling cats are now…

Gray Wing woke abruptly to see pale dawn light filtering through the waterfall. Quiet Rain was pacing nervously beside him, and he realized that her growls had awoken him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, springing out of his hollow.

“Jagged Peak’s nest is empty,” his mother replied. “He must have gone out by himself—and he knows that he’s not supposed to do that.”

Gray Wing let his tail-tip rest on his mother’s back comfortingly. “He couldn’t have gone far,” he meowed. “I’ll bring him back.”

He scanned the slopes as he emerged from behind the waterfall. Nothing moved in all the snowy landscape.

“Jagged Peak! Jagged Peak!” he yowled.

Silence.

Stupid kit , he thought, scrambling up the rocks that led to the plateau. Wind buffeted his fur as he reached the top and looked around carefully. There was no sign of his brother, and no reply when he called out again.

Beginning to feel troubled, Gray Wing returned to the cave to find his mother waiting anxiously beside the waterfall, a few of the other cats gathered around her. “I’m sorry,” he mewed. “I can’t find him. He’s not beside the pool or on the plateau.”

Quiet Rain began pacing again. “A hawk must have taken him!” she wailed. “Or he’s been smothered in a snowdrift.”

Silver Frost brushed her tail along Quiet Rain’s side. “Jagged Peak is a strong young cat,” she said. “And he’s not stupid. He knows to keep himself out of danger.”

“That’s right,” Lion’s Roar agreed. “He’ll probably turn up soon, with a piece of prey twice his own size!”

“I wish I could believe you,” Quiet Rain murmured.

Gray Wing was worried too. “I’ll go out and take another look,” he promised. “Misty Water,” he added, turning to the elder, “will you come with me?”

“What?” Snow Hare pushed herself between Misty Water and Gray Wing. “She’s too old, and her eyesight is failing,” she hissed into Gray Wing’s ear. “She’ll be no help!”

“That’s not true.” Gray Wing gently nudged Snow Hare aside. “Misty Water,” he mewed, “Broken Feather told me many times that you were the best scent tracker he had ever known. If any cat has a chance of tracking Jagged Peak, it’s you.”

Misty Water blinked up at him with milky blue eyes. “I’ll come,” she responded.

Gray Wing led the way out of the cave, and Misty Water followed, her paw steps stiff and shaky. As soon as she came to the end of the path, she grew more alert, her nose to the ledge, her jaws open to draw in scent. “He went this way,” she announced, beginning to haul herself awkwardly over the rocks that led to the plateau. “I’ll claw that pesky kit when I catch him,” she panted. “My old bones aren’t fit for this.”

Gray Wing scrambled up beside her. “This can’t be right,” he protested, struggling with disappointment. “Jagged Peak was up here two days ago, with the rest of us, when we said farewell to the others.”

Misty Water halted and glared at him. “You think I can’t tell a two-day-old scent from a fresh one?” she demanded. “This scent is laid on top of the older one. You young cats think you know everything.”

Gray Wing kept quiet and followed the elder as she dragged herself over the lip of the plateau, then padded to the little heap of stones that covered Fluttering Bird.

“Did Jagged Peak come over here two days ago?” she asked.

Gray Wing thought back, picturing the scene in his mind. “No,” he replied at last.

“Well, he came here today ,” Misty Water mewed. “His scent has pooled, so it shows he spent some time here…” She paused, scenting all around the heap of stones, before clambering down beside the waterfall again. “Then he went this way.”

The old cat branched off over a clump of boulders.

Gray Wing stared at her in amazement. “Are you sure?”

Misty Water glanced back, her eyes narrowed in an icy glare. “Are you saying I’m too old to recognize a scent trail?”

“No, but… that’s the way the traveling cats went.”

As Gray Wing spoke the sun finally pierced through the dark clouds that were massing on the horizon, casting a yellow beam over the side of the mountain. Realization hit him like a blow from a falling rock. “Jagged Peak left to find the traveling cats!” he exclaimed. “He’s following the trail of the sun.”

Misty Water gave the boulders a last sniff, then returned to Gray Wing’s side. “Stupid kit,” she muttered. “He’ll be back when his belly starts rumbling.”

Gray Wing wished he could share her confidence. Jagged Peak is so stone-headed. And since he caught that hare, he probably thinks he can catch anything he wants.