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“Yeah. I’ll switch her out.”
“Use the other husky one,” he said, pointing at Rudy. This was the first time Peter had really paid attention to the dogs. “He’s strong,” he continued, “and then you’d have weak, strong” — he pointed to Nook, Rudy — “and behind them, strong, weak.” He pointed to Bogey and Sencha in turn.
“That won’t work,” she said immediately, making a face. She sounded just like a know-it-all idiot. “I mean, it would work, but Nook is old. Rudy will pull too hard for her because he loves to pull, but she’ll try to keep up. Bogey is …”
“He’s the nice one,” said Peter.
“Yeah. The nice brown face,” she said. “He’ll listen to Nook and not pull too hard. And then I’ll put Sencha behind Bogey, because he’ll break a wider trail than Nook — won’t you, you brown tank?” Bogey’s tongue, already half out of his mouth as he panted away his excess heat, slurped her hand.
“Yeah,” Peter said after a moment. “That’s cool, too.” He shrugged and leaned back again, closing his eyes.
As Hannah redistributed the team, she checked all the dogs again and took off Sencha’s makeshift coat, which was wet from the snow and hot — the Dal was plenty warm now.
Hannah risked a glance back as they turned a corner. Behind her the sled tracks stretched out all the way back until they disappeared around the last corner. The furrows where the dogs’ paws had dug up the snow caught the afternoon sunlight. She spied another set of animal tracks off at the side of the trail, also glinting. They were deep and heavy and closely set. The dogs paid them no mind, their heads down and shoulders forward, panting.
They topped a small rise and went around another corner. Hannah saw they had been slowly climbing for a while and were on a sort of plateau now. The pines thinned out, and she saw tall poplar and maple trees and, below them, the ever-present thatch of small branches and trees that her father called scrub. There were large bare patches that tumbled and jutted like a bowl of marshmallows, though the granite boulders visible beneath the snow were decidedly not soft. The sound of the trail beneath the runners was thin and she knew they were running over rock.
The plateau started to slope downward again, and soon they were back in the dark arms of the forest. The trail swept down around yet another corner and through a heavily wooded area. The snowpack petered out until they were running over mostly ice; the snow had all been trapped in the pine boughs above.
“Easy,” called Hannah. “Easy, Nook.” They slowed to navigate the icy patch. The shade and placement of the trees made it seem as though they were underground, so dark was the trail and so still the air. She was concentrating on keeping her feet from sliding when she poled so that the sled didn’t skitter sideways on the ice, so when Sencha barked, short and tense, Hannah didn’t register it right away. The dogs slowed suddenly and Hannah had to quickly step on the brake to keep the sled from hitting the backs of Rudy’s legs.
“Nook! Get up!” she shouted, but the dog didn’t, instead placing her paws slightly wider and lifting her tail and head the way she did to signal to the team to slow down. Then one of the dark blobs by the side of the trail moved, and Hannah realized there was something else there with them. The sharp corner had hidden both parties from each other’s sight until they were almost on top of each other.
Hannah’s heart slammed into her chest as the hulking mass lurched upright in front of them. Black. Shaggy. It was a moose. It still had one side of its antlers, a huge scooped bowl tipped with hooked tines. It was massive, bigger than any animal she had ever seen in the wild. Its upper body was at least as big as their car and as wide, and when it stood up, it was easily twice as tall as her. How did it hold up those antlers? They were huge, and she knew they were made of bone, so they must be incredibly heavy.
The moose turned his shaggy head to look at them, the breath coming out of its nostrils in loud blowing noises. There was no steam because it was so warm, but Hannah knew it was clearly warning them.
Nook stood stock still. Her teeth were bared and her shoulders were straining against the traces of her harness; only Hannah’s foot digging into the brake was keeping the sled from vaulting forward. Carefully, still watching the moose, Hannah eased the snowhook out of its pocket and placed it on the snowpack, stepping carefully on the back rod to set it deeply. Although it was on a long rope, if she did lose control or fall off the sled, the snowhook would eventually stop the sled and root it, even if it tipped.
The other dogs were not behaving, either. Sencha looked at Nook and began to jump against the traces, yipping. Bogey’s hair stood fully erect all along his back and neck, though he wasn’t making a noise. And Rudy barked excitedly, a high-pitched sound. The moose stretched out his massive, thick neck and lowered it, points first, toward the dogs. Its huffing began to get louder and shorter.
“It’s going to run them, Hannah!” said Peter, then he coughed. “It doesn’t see you. Walk toward it. Wave your arms.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m standing on the brake.”
“Shit. Well, wave your arms. Shout!”
She saw the square plastic object still in his arms. “Turn the radio on!”
He fumbled with the buttons as she waved her arms, turning the radio on to static. He cranked up the volume and held the radio above his head, yelling. “G’won now, get!”
The static hissed and the movement of Hannah’s arms caught the moose’s eye. He raised his head in alarm, tilting back the massive antler rack until his throat showed — His neck is as long as I am tall, Hannah thought. Then he turned in a heaving rush of snow, his impossibly long legs growing even longer as he broke back into the forest. His antlers clack, clack, clacked against branches as he sped away.
The dogs fell silent as soon as the moose turned away. Even Sencha did not try to chase it. Instead, all four dogs stood there, their flanks heaving from tension, watching to make sure the threat had gone for good.
Hannah watched the moose disappear into the undergrowth. It was only a few heartbeats before it was obscured by the treeline, its dark flanks merging with the dark trunks. Only the distant sound of its heavy tread could be heard, as well as the faint complaint of antler-whacked tree branches now and then.
“I can’t believe he moved so fast,” she said. Even to her own ears, her voice was awed and breathless.
Peter nodded. “They can really move when they want to. I guess we caught him napping.” He laughed, coughing at the end of it. As he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, flakes of snow landed on his fisted glove.
“Great,” he said. “It’s snowing.”
The snow was a good sign because that meant it was getting colder, and it would be easier for the dogs to run. The warmth played havoc with the snowpack, making it become impassable. Finally, Hannah stopped, her legs aching and her back a steel rod of soreness. If she was this tired, she could only imagine how exhausted the dogs were.
“Why are we st
opping?” asked Peter.
