Free Blue Mountain by Martine Leavitt Page A

either. Together they talked of how they would leave the next day, drenched in the scent of man, and with luck be at the top of meadow mountain by evening.
    There they hoped to have a close view of blue mountain for the first time.
    When they bedded down, Mouf said, “What if blue mountain isn’t there, Tuk? What if it’s just a story and the story is that Mouf and her friends and most important Wen all fell into a blue mountain nothing and at the bottom of the nothing was the throat of a huge puma? What if?”

 
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    In the night, the pop of a gun.
    Up!
    Around him Tuk’s bandmates leaped up.
    Up!
    But Tuk could not get up.
    â€œTuk! Run!” Dall cried.
    But he could not move. The more he struggled to get up, the less he could move.
    Something bound him like a great spider’s web. The gun had shot a net over him.
    In another moment he saw a man, and another, and one more. They came closer until they touched him.
    Flee! Flee! Tuk told himself, but the more he struggled against the web, the tighter it became.
    Two men knelt to bind his forelegs and back legs. One of the men seemed to speak to him in a soft, strange language—tricky sounds, as if he could speak the language of every animal at once. It had the music of birds in it, the buzzing of mosquitoes, the clicks of beetles, the round depth of an elk’s call, and the gutturals of a porcupine.
    Tuk was helpless, but still he tried to fight. One of the men put a covering over his eyes. Tuk realized that he was not injured, but trapped.
    The men continued to make their tricky language, but over it he heard, “I’m here, Tuk.”
    â€œMouf?”
    â€œYes, I’m here.”
    â€œAre you trapped?”
    â€œNo. I’m just here.”
    â€œRun, Mouf!”
    â€œNo. I will stay here with you.”
    â€œThe men will see you!”
    â€œThey see me. They are making their sounds at me, but they aren’t trying to trap me.”
    â€œMouf, is that really you?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œBut—but you are so brave.”
    Peaceable Mouf. Tuk could not tell her how it eased his fear to know that she was nearby, that he could smell her familiar scent. He thrashed against the web.
    â€œDon’t fight the web, Tuk,” Mouf said. “It just makes it worse.”
    He tried to calm himself.
    â€œDall? The others?” he asked, panting.
    â€œThey are safe,” Mouf said.
    He felt as if he were falling from a great height into the dark. He couldn’t fight the web anymore. It had won. He wasn’t sure if a moment or a moon passed. Mouf was closer now, and absolutely still, as if the men were not there making their tricky sounds, sometimes lowing like cows, sometimes bleating like lambs, sometimes tapping like the sound of hail on stone.
    â€œMouf, what are they doing?”
    â€œThey are putting something on your ear.”
    Just then Tuk heard a sharp sound in his ear, and at the same time felt a pain. He cried out in surprise. He felt another sharp pain in his shoulder like a sting, and then he felt sleepy and calm, as if he were dreaming.
    â€œThey are taking the web off you now.” Mouf sounded far away.
    In a few moments he felt the web fall off, and the cover was removed from his eyes. He was awake, aware of everything around him, and yet unable to move. He saw the men closely now, that their faces and arms were naked as newborn mice. Two of them talked to Mouf, who ignored them with great dignity. The other stroked Tuk’s side, and he thrilled at this gentleness.
    His ear throbbed with the device they had attached to it. In a few moments the men vanished. Mouf put her nose next to his.
    â€œTime to get up, Tuk,” she said.
    His legs twitched, and he ached as if he had fallen a great way, but he stood up suddenly, shaking.
    He leaned against Mouf a little, getting his legs. He sniffed and nudged her.
    â€œThis way, Tuk.” Mouf led him slowly