Ujurak ignored him. ‘Look down there,’ he said, pointing with his muzzle to where a female in a shiny red pelt was sweeping the patch of ground in front of her door. She pattered to and fro on flat paws, darting out her head as she jabbered in flat-face talk to an old male flat-face sitting outside the den next to hers.

‘She has a goose spirit,’ Ujurak announced. ‘And the old male has a brown bear spirit.’

Toklo stared at the male flat-face. He was plump, hunched up on his seat; his hair and face were covered in curly brown fur.

‘He’s not a bear!’ Toklo exclaimed, thoroughly offended.

He would never have admitted it to the others, but privately he sensed an air of peace enfolding this place, something he had never felt before around flat-faces. There was no trace of the threat they had experienced from the flat-faces on Smoke Mountain.

Or maybe they’re just good at hiding it, he thought suspiciously.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ he said aloud. ‘It’s time to go. Bears and flat-faces shouldn’t be around each other.’

‘Don’t be such a grump, Toklo!’ Ujurak shouldered Toklo playfully. ‘This is fun!’

‘No, Toklo’s right.’ Kallik’s eyes were wary. ‘Haven’t we had enough trouble with flat-faces? We should go.’

‘But there’s nothing to be afraid of here,’ Lusa put in. ‘I know there isn’t. These flat-faces remind me of the kind ones who looked after us in the Bear Bowl.’

‘Oh, you and your Bear Bowl!’ Toklo huffed.

Before any bear could reply, the door of one of the dens opened and the little flat-face cub from further down the valley trotted out.

Lusa’s eyes danced with amusement. ‘There’s your friend, Toklo!’

Toklo glared at her. I’ll never hear the last of this. I almost wish I’d eaten the little nuisance!

The cub looked happy again. His injured leg must have been treated, because he ran quickly over to the older cubs and started to chase after the round thing they were kicking between them. The male who had brought him there – his father, Toklo supposed – appeared out of the same den, with an older male flat-face following him. He was tall, with long grey head fur, and wore a caribou pelt fringed at the edges. The two males talked together, pointing at the playing cubs.

‘I could watch them all day!’ Lusa murmured. ‘I like the sound of their voices. Look at the little one – he’s got hold of the ball! Now he’s throwing it!’