"Whoa," I holler and stomp on the brake making it drag in the snow. The hard pulling dogs slow until the brake anchors them. Shemya dashes up to the sled.

"I can't believe you caught up with us." I glare at him and give a gloved hand signal for him to come. He creeps up to me with his usual high-flying tail dropped down with worry.

I grab a hold on his collar and continue talking to deaf ears. "I didn't think you would bust away like this. Now, hold still and let me get that rope off before you get tangled up and hurt."

I pull off my mittens, unbuckle his snow-crusted collar, and toss it into the sled basket. I'm tempted to confine him inside the sled, but decide a run will be good for the speediest dog I've ever known.

"Now don't get in the way or confuse Tok." Shemya stands on two legs and rests paws on my chest and I look straight into apologetic eyes. "Tok needs to learn. Do you understand me, Shemya?"

He answers with a wet tongue across my cheek.

I slip my fingers back into beaver-skin mitts. As I straighten myself up on the runners and release the brake, I shout to the dogs, "Hike."

Shemya runs well ahead, teasing Tok to lead the team after him. Tok struts as if showing off for his beloved parent.

When the trail leaves river ice for a forest of leaf-free birch and deep green spruce trees, Shemya stops. His long muzzle studies a track in the snow. His body stiffens and his tail is still as he surveys the snow. The team and I rush by. I call to him, but my order to follow is but a whisper in the wind to his sound free world.

Below a sharp bend in the riverbank, without any weight to hold him back, Shemya lunges ahead of us at his championship pace.

Tok points his nose high in the air as if startled by a strong scent. He comes to a complete stop and the whole team skids into him. I stomp on the brake barely in time to avoid ramming the sled into the dogs.

The tangle of harnesses and dogs is massive. The gang line that attaches to their neck collars is supposed to hold the team in line, but it twists causing padded straps to slip off shoulders and forelegs. The dogs tumble in a heap and struggle to stand.

"Tok, what got into you?" My temper mounts and I spit out the names of each helpless dog. "Hold still Libby, Jonsey, Bingo, Socks, Dusty, Snowball, and you too, Tok."

With a big sigh, I tie the anchor strap on the sled securely to a nearby spruce. With grumbling, I use bare fingers to untangle twisted harnesses. Shemya nudges my knee sympathetically.

"I'm afraid Tok will never be as smart as you, Shemya. Just look at this mess. Oh, no. A broken strap." I hold up a piece of the woven nylon for all the dogs to see. They feign innocence with steamy, pink tongues sending white puffs into the air.

An old log cabin is nestled in a stand of spruce trees.

"I know Trapper Pete won't mind a bit if I help myself to a strap that might be in this cabin." I think of how he brings furs to the village and always stops at our house hoping Mom is cooking his favorite moose stew.

As I start to walk down the incline toward the cabin, Shemya surprises me by running right in front of me, blocking my path. He barks and barks. All the dogs join him in barking.

"Stop that, Shemya. Have you all gone crazy today?"

I hold my hand up in a stop signal. Immediately, Shemya obeys and stops barking, but then he growls. I get an uneasy chill as we stare at the cabin. The other dogs become still, too.

A bench with broken legs lay outside the open cabin door. Could it be a hungry bear waking up too soon from winter? With a loud clatter, a large four tin flies through the doorway thumping on the porch. Horror stops my breath.

I gasp.

A huge grizzly saunters out the doorway clinging to a sack of sugar. Its eyes point straight at me. In a thunderous growl, it warns me not to intrude on its meal.

I have no weapon, no place to hide. The forest is thick with spindly spruce except for one leafless cottonwood. That tree may be my best chance. Swallowing the scream that fills my head, I back toward low hanging branches. My boots crunch on crusted snow and moving legs make me a target.

The grizzly bear charges.

Shemya dashes out to one side, circles the on-coming beast and sinks his sharp teeth into its stubby tail. The snarling bear stops charging and spins to shake the pesky dog loose giving me enough time to jump for a branch and pull myself up. With heart pounding louder than the beat of a skin drum, I shiver, frozen on the limb.

A wild bear odor whiffs over me. White puffs of breath reek of meat gone nasty, and pieces of dry moss cling to shaggy fur. I know bear can climb a tree. My stomach twists in knots.

Shemya jaws come down on a second mouthful of bear fur, but the big beast plows on, dragging the attached dog toward the cottonwood tree. I want to call to Shemya, ordering him to run away and be safe. But, in his silent world, he can only hear his heart insist he save me.

I climb to a higher limb just as the bear rears up on hind legs and takes a powerful swat. With a sharp crack, low branches shatter sending splinters over snow.

A snarling Shemya shows teeth that clamp onto the bear again. A trace of deep red blood spurts from his mouth. I know he has pierced the tough hide as the bear whirls after him, away from me. Over and over, Shemya attacks the bear from behind. With uncanny instinct, he lets loose and gets away just in time to avoid the deadly claws.

I hear hysterical barking from the team tied up on the slope. I shiver. Suspense has me frozen, immobile on a limb, icy air creeps beneath my parka. My mind screams with prayer as I stare at Shemya's every move.

Shemya races easily over the surface of the snow, the bear flounders as its heavy weight breaks through the crust. Each foot sinks into deep snow. Finally, the bear sits. It exhales a rank cloud of steam with a huge dripping tongue hanging low. Its big head wags and he wearily snorts at Shemya. With one last snarl, the grizzly lumbers away into the forest.

When the bear is well out of sight, I scoot my shaking body down the trunk of the tree. I throw my arms around a trembling Shemya. I can feel the fast beat of his heart. His hot tongue licks tears right off my cheeks. Into a deaf ear, I choke out whispered words.

"I'll never, ever leave you behind again, Shemya. From now on, whether we ever win another race or not, you and Tok can lead together."

All the dogs still yap as we walk up the slope to them.

"You mutts, hush up," I command. If any one of you is ever as good as Shemya, then you'll have something to yap about." I can't resist patting each head, thankful that the dreadful bear actually had ignored them. Every dog is fit and ready to run.

I look at Shemya and point to the sled. His plume tail wags as he jumps gratefully onto the sled. I push a blanket around him as he nestles down.
With hands that I can't keep from shaking, I knot the broken strap to the rope I took off Shemya. The fix is good enough to get us back to the village where I long for the welcoming arms of my mom and dad.

"Gee, gee you huskies!" I shout and turn the team onto snow made pink by the setting sun.