Read Online The Dog by Kerstin Ekman - Free Book Online Page A

blaring, the
    trumpeting of the young bull moose. The female was being
    pursued by a bigger moose the grey dog never saw. This bull
    kicked up the ground and left his scent in the holes. The young
    female evaded him, running in long loops with the trumpeting
    young bull close behind, the big one never far away.
    The dog listened in two directions. He didn't hunt much
    now, day or night. The skin on his belly was so tight his tendons showed. Often he stood still, head cocked, trying to
    make sense of the loud, unrecognisable noises. Hooves kicking
    wet moss off stones. The dry sound of scraping antlers on
    bark and wood. And in the far distance, from the other side
    of the lake, the whizzing of rifle shots.
    Early one morning in his old winter sleeping place
    above the marsh, before either peeing or drinking water, he
    was licking his paws and listening. Dawn was breaking over
    the edge of the forest and the fog hovered over the treetops
    like grey smoke. Although he wasn't about to get up, there
    were sounds, still too far away to interpret, that disturbed
    him.
    He didn't dare go off among the little pines and crouch
    down, though he needed to. If he licked his paws hard, the
    noise of the licking blocked out the distant sounds altogether.
    His ears had a respite, only to be assaulted anew, in
    loud bursts, as soon as he paused. Eventually he did get up
    and slink along the edge of the marsh towards the barn.
    There he lay back down and took in the scents. But the light
    breeze that was beginning to make the mist rise from the
    marsh was coming from off the lake. The sounds were from
    a different direction.
    He didn't know what they were, but they seemed to be
    growing louder and more frequent. There was something up
    there along the ridges. It was in lots of places and he didn't
    know what it Was, nor could he capture its scent.
    Just then a fox skirted the marsh, running fast in a straight
    line. Twice the ribbon of his red fur was visible. Then he was
    gone. But the dog could tell he was fleeing. So he got up
    and moved behind the barn. A raven screeched high in the
    sky. It had seen something. Time after time it called out.
    The dog heeded the warning and slipped down towards
    the cleared area. He began to cross it at a brisk pace; the
    wind was awakening, blowing off the lake. He didn't stop
    until he reached the beaver tarn. There was silence, but it
    wasn't a silence he trusted. He stood on the ridge above the
    tarn, waiting for the fickle morning breeze to turn so he
    could catch the scent of the danger coming from that direction,
    from the edge of the forest where the birds were
    making such a racket.
    Then it came. A light, biting whiff to his sensitive nose.
    The smell of smoke. He turned tail and fled.
    All morning he ran, looking for a way out. Now he knew
    the noise meant people. They had never before come from
    up above. They usually kept their loud bursts of noise close
    to the shore. They were being quiet, but little sounds that
    were not part of his knowledge of the forest told him where they were. Loud rustling. Sharp banging. He was prickly
    with fear when he worked out that there were many of them
    and they were far apart in places he could not identify. As he
    tried to get away, he kept encountering others who were
    fleeing as well. Hares rushed past. Game birds rose noisily,
    heading straight towards the lake, hurrying away from the
    transformed forest.
    A dog. Excited barking.
    He went rigid, lowering his belly to the ground. Never
    had he heard barking on this side. A thin yapping; it cohered
    into a ribbon of noise in the air, rising and tailing. A dog
    tracking its prey. Loud and shrill. Then it sank again, coming
    closer.
    He turned, bounding up the slope. Along with the
    roaring in his ears he also heard a crackling sound. He never
    saw the man, but from the band of trees beyond a little grassy
    area, he caught a heavy scent. He changed direction again,
    rushing back the same way he had come, the