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The next morning, Bodger rises stiffly from his slumber. He hears Tao crunching upon some freshly-caught prey and hopes that he will share his kill. However, the cat leaves only a pile of inedible feathers in his wake. After taking a drink of water from the creek, Bodger returns in desperation to the pile of feathers, eating it in order to gain some sustenance. The feathers only stick to his throat and he must retch them back out. He settles for some foraged blades of grass and wild raspberries, which do nothing to truly satiate his hunger. Luath soon leads the charge to continue the journey, and all three animals proceed onwards.
Bodger journeys for as long as his body will allow him. He eventually reaches such a point of exhaustion that he collapses on the forest floor. His two companions try to rouse him, but eventually leave his prone body in order to explore the surrounding area on their own. While Luath is hungry too, killing goes against his nature.
While Bodger lays unguarded, a bear cub happens upon him. Bodger only has the strength to curl his lips into a snarl—he cannot do anything else to deter the cub from molesting him. The curious cub soon scratches Bodger across the back, drawing blood, which only excites the cub more. Bodger cannot fight back as the cub treats him like a large chew toy.
At this moment, Tao returns to the area with a freshly-killed partridge in tow. Seeing his friend in danger, his countenance transforms into that of a fierce predator and he agilely springs onto the bear cub’s neck while screaming. Tao then begins to scratch the cub’s eyes with his sharp nails. The cub, becoming blinded by his own blood, begins to thrash and roar. This commands the attention of his mother, who comes charging. The mother bear takes a swipe at Tao, but Tao swiftly dodges the blow. When Luath comes thundering onto the scene, the mother bear and her cub retreat into the forest.
Tao and Luath minister to Bodger, with Luath cleaning the elder dog’s wounds and Tao presenting the partridge to him. Bodger soon eats the partridge, as well as a kangaroo mouse that Tao delivers to him an hour later. The trio spends the night in the same spot, with the younger animals steadfastly guarding Bodger throughout the night.
Luath’s hunger has begun to overtake his instinctual opposition to hunting and killing other animals. He even is so desperate for sustenance that he samples some deer droppings—only to spit them out in revulsion. When he drinks from a creek and spots a frog, he seizes the opportunity and successfully catches and eats it. When he returns to the company of Tao and Bodger, he sees that they have enjoyed various prey, as evidenced by a fresh pile of feathers and pelt scraps.
Luath can plainly sense that Bodger is still weak and not able to carry on at a fast pace. Bodger has lost a lot of blood due to his wounds from the run-in with the bear cub. The trio consequently spends the next two days in the same patch of forest. By the third day, Bodger’s wounds have scabbed over and he seems almost recovered. They therefore press on in their journey, traveling several miles and finding themselves next to a small lake.
Suddenly, both Luath and Bodger pick up the scent of humans cooking in the air. They run toward the aroma, with Bodger in hotter pursuit than the more cautious Luath. Tao comes along too, although he feigns disinterest in the venture.
Bodger soon spots the human party. There are white men, women, and children, as well as Ojibway native people. When Bodger presents himself to them, the children cry out in fear. One of them prepares to throw rocks at the perceived invader. He is chastened and soothed by an adult woman. The woman approaches Bodger, and Bodger, eager to be in the company of humans once again, quickly ingratiates himself to her. The sound of her laughter as she begins to pet him signals that he is not a threat to the children, and the children are soon petting him too. Bodger basks in the glow of this human attention and gratefully gobbles down the morsels of meat he is offered. An Ojibway man also gives him some of the stew they are making over the fire. He even shares some with Tao, who comes flouncing onto the scene. Luath, meanwhile, watches from afar.
Luath soon summons his friends with an authoritative bark. Bodger reluctantly parts ways with the humans to return to his friend, with Tao in tow. Unbeknownst to the animals, an Ojibway woman amongst the party has recognized Bodger as “the White Dog of the Ojibways, the virtuous White Dog of Omen, whose appearance heralds either disaster or good fortune” (49). She believes that he has been sent to her, weak and in need of nourishment, by the Spirits. Bodger’s benevolent will toward Tao, evidenced by his sharing of food with him, has proven to the Ojibway woman that Bodger is an extraordinary animal. The party’s loving treatment of him has assured that he is a good omen.
The three animals travel steadily for a few days, their path undeterred. They settle into a pattern of finding a hollow created by an uprooted tree for shelter during the night and begin their travels at daybreak. Their pace is set by Bodger, whose wounds are steadily healing and who is taking on a vigor that exceeds his energy levels prior to the outset of the incredible journey.
Luath, in contrast, feels his vigor suffering due to his lackluster hunting skills. He also maintains a stolid dedication to the journey: not partaking in the frolicking games that Tao and Bodger often entertain themselves with. Tao, the wildest of the bunch, is quite suited to the new, nomadic nature of their life. He often makes detours that take him away from the company of the others for a few hours at a time—but he always returns.
The trio uses predominantly abandoned trails for their travel. Although the Indian summer is currently providing ideal weather conditions for their travels, they all seem to be able to sense the rapid onset of a cold winter that will not bode well for Bodger, whose coat is not built for serious insulation. He finds it uncomfortably cold during the nights already.
The flows of nature, and its inexorable transformation into winter, carry on around the animals. Wild animals hardly take note of the traveling trio.
One night, the animals happen upon a campsite. The two dogs try to forage from a trash can but are deterred by a human who shoots them with pellets. They escape largely unscathed, but Luath’s anxious watchfulness increases.
On another day, they encounter an old man, flanked by two chickadees who flit between the trees in pursuit of him, walking through the forest. He acts completely unbothered by the presence of the three animals. He permits them to follow him until he reaches a small cabin.
The three animals cautiously enter the cabin. They are enticed into it by the alluring smell of cooking meat—despite the fact that Luath was just carrying a freshly-killed rabbit in his jowls. He has politely deposited his kill nearby before entering the cabin.
Soon, a chipmunk that clearly lives inside the cabin as a companion to the old man makes himself known. The chipmunk protests to the presence of the other three animals—and Tao, especially, keeps his eye on it.
The man finishes his cooking and draws four seats at the table. He invites the animals to sit down, and the three animals oblige the familiar command. They watch the old man eat at one table setting, and then sit at the other settings in order to enjoy more helpings. He is lost in his own world. After finishing the last helping, the chipmunk lets out a shrill call that rouses the man from his reverie. He starts and looks upon his animal visitors, then tells them, “You must come more often...Remember me most kindly to your dear mother!” (61). He then escorts the animals out of his cabin.
The animals continue on their way. Luath shares his rabbit with Bodger, while Tao makes a detour to catch and eat his own prey. The next day, Luath notices that the river they are traveling alongside is getting wider. In a bid to shorten their journey, he soon makes his way into the water and swims clear to the other side. He has no trouble doing this, as swimming is second nature to him. Upon reaching the other side, he barks resolutely to his companions, bidding them to follow his example.
After a few false starts, Bodger cautiously makes his way into the water, and makes it to the other side through a laborious swim. Tao, loathe to join them, hems and haws at the water’s edge, emitting his signature Siamese scream. But he soon plunges into the water too.
Unfortunately, at that exact moment, a beaver dam breaks loose. It sends a torrent of wood and debris into the water, and Tao gets knocked in the head by a log. He falls unconscious and is swept swiftly upriver. Luath tries in vain to rescue him, but the cat is soon lost. The two dogs, bereft, climb out of the water and spend the night in the forest without their cat companion.
A cabin sits several miles downstream from where the two dogs lost Tao. It sits on the same side of the river as them. Inside of it, a Finnish family by the name of Nurmi lives. The father is named Reino, the mother goes by Mrs. Nurmi, and their young daughter is named Helvi. “their lives [are] as frugal and orderly as the fields they had wrested from the wilderness” (69). They live a spartan life in the wilderness, subsisting through their trap lines, and their only connection to the outside world comes in the form of Helvi’s school attendance.
The day that the animals attempted to cross the river fell on a Sunday. As such, Helvi is fortuitously by the water’s edge, where she spots Tao’s limp body. She brings the cat to her parents, who agree to try to revive the animal. They dry the cat and then pour a mixture of warm milk and brandy down his throat. This revives him, and he soon jolts awake and releases a torrent of water from his mouth.
Helvi deposits Tao on a tray and places him into the freshly used, but now extinguished oven, where Tao dries off and revives even further. Helvi is delighted by the cat, and Tao spends three nights in the cabin, sleeping comfortably in her bed. The family is enchanted by the Siamese cat’s gorgeous and sleek appearance. They even marvel at the knot on his tail, which evidences the mythological origins of the Siamese breed. Legend says that this crook in the tail exists so that the Siamese princesses, for whom Siamese cats were bred to be companions and guardians, could deposit their rings upon it. Reino also notices, through observation, that Tao is deaf.
For the three days that Tao spends with the Nurmis, he settles into a lovely routine. After Helvi departs for school, he shadows the husband and wife as they carry out their duties. These duties include foraging for mushrooms, shucking corn, felling trees for timber, and mending harnesses and oil lamps. When Helvi returns, Tao jumps onto her shoulders while she completes her chores.
On the fourth day, the water blocking Tao’s ears is released, and his hearing returns. Helvi can see that the cat has grown restless. She begins to weep, but does not deter him, when he parts ways with her and heads back into the forest.
Bodger and Luath are dispirited after losing their feline companion. Bodger aggrievedly feels Tao’s absence more acutely: the two share a special bond. When Tao came to the Hunter family as a kitten, Bodger already had a reputation as the nemesis of the cats on the block. However, Tao won him over through his scrappy, defiant attitude—to which Bodger capitulated for the first time in his life. Tao was not fond of other cats himself, and the pair became a fearsome dyad on the block—which would clear of both cats and dogs upon their approach. Luath, for his part, also has a great affection for Tao, but his relationship with the cat is not nearly as intimate or deep.
The two dogs get by on what they are able to catch, but Luath is still not a great hunter. One day, by pure luck, they come upon a hunter who has just finished killing a porcupine. Spooked by their approach, he abandons his kill, which the two dogs relish.
One day, the dogs’ hunger emboldens them to pick off a chicken from a farm they are passing by. They are soon noticed by the farmer and his black collie. The collie runs to attack the invaders. Luath is not a fighting dog, and his foraged diet is not providing adequate strength and sustenance. He can only truly rely upon the thick skin on his neck to protect him from the oncoming attack. The collie engages him, getting a few good scratches in on Luath’s legs and ear, and latching onto his throat. Then, Bodger comes thundering onto the scene, and his breeding as well as extensive history as a fighting dog kick in. He knocks the collie cleanly off of Luath and clamps down onto his throat. Although his teeth are no longer sharp, he is still able to choke the collie. Bodger finishes off his victory by teasingly circling the collie in order to disorient him and then crashing into him and tossing him about with a series of successive crashes. The battered collie, having never encountered such vicious opposition, flees back to his master with his tail between his legs. Bodger and Luath continue on their way—although Luath is bleeding from his injuries.
That night, the two dogs find a dry, shallow cave to sleep in. At dawn, Luath catches the scent of a porcupine passing by. Remembering the sweet, tender taste of porcupine flesh, he pursues it. He miscalculates this foray, forgetting that the human hunter took care of the most difficult part of killing the previous porcupine: dodging its quills. Luath is soon met with a swipe to the face as the porcupine wields its tail. Although it is not a direct hit, a few three-inch-long, razor sharp quills embed themselves in his face. His efforts to rid himself of them only drives them further into his flesh, compounding his agony. So, the two dogs carry on, with Luath now trying in vain to remove the quills at every opportunity.
Tao easily picks up the scent of his canine companions once he has made his way back into the wilderness. Traveling alone, he makes good time in a graceful and confident manner. He follows his ancient instincts and covers all traces of his presence—burying the scraps of his prey and sleeping in high tree branches when he needs to.
On his second day of traveling, two human hunters spot him drinking from a lake. They are intrigued and entertained by his presence in the forest and try to get him to come to them. Tao meets them with aloof coldness as he finishes drinking and disappears into the forest.
As Tao’s journey progresses, he soon begins to sense something watching and following him. Soon enough, a large, fearsome wild lynx reveals itself to be his pursuer: “It [is] a wild, cruel face that the Siamese [sees], and he [recognizes] instinctively a wanton killer—and one that could easily outclass him in strength, ferocity and speed” (95).
Tao tears away from the predator and advances into the branches of a birch tree. The lynx soon follows Tao up into the tree, which bows and thrashes with the weight of the big wild cat. Tao is able to jump from the tree just as the lynx takes a swipe at him with his killer claws.
The lynx determinedly continues its pursuit of Tao, who takes refuge in a narrow burrow in the forest floor. When the lynx peers into it, he receives a faceful of dirt, as Tao begins to kick the forest floor up into the lynx’s face. Soon enough, the lynx begins to dig up the burrow, and Tao realizes that he is trapped inside of it.
Unbeknownst to both of them, a hunting party composed of an adult man and his son are advancing through the forest on a nearby path. It is the first time the son has been entrusted with a gun of his own. He and his father proceed as quietly as possible, so as not to spook the deer who are their quarry. The lynx, too distracted by his pursuit of Tao, does not realize that the boy has walked up behind him. Once the lynx becomes aware of the boy, it sets its sights upon him. The boy fells the lynx with one shot to the chest. His father proudly congratulates him, but they leave the body of the lynx where it lays.
Tao then emerges from the burrow, coldly disregarding the dead lynx before turning in order to “send a last shower of dirt over the animal’s face” and continuing on his way (100).
After two days, Tao catches up to the dogs. He sees their unmistakable silhouettes across a valley, and then opens “his mouth and [utters] a plaintive, compelling howl” (100). The two dogs recognize his voice immediately, although they can scarcely believe that he is still alive. Then, Bodger becomes beside himself with joy, performing a version of the whirling hunting dance he did with the collie. Luath greets the cat in a more dignified manner, although he is also very happy to see Tao alive and well.
That night, all three animals slumber in immeasurable joy—with Tao nestled happily in between Bodger’s front paws and Luath’s heart undeniably lightened.
In the rising action of the novel, the animal’s interior thoughts and lives are depicted with greater clarity—from a third-person point of view with limited omniscience. This means that this section of the novel more fully fleshes out each animals’ individual traits with greater detail and depth than the novel’s first section. This character development is also a natural result of the meat of the novel concerning itself with the animals alone—not them in the company of humans. Burnford’s choice to depict the animals from a third-person perspective, rather than a first-person one, foregrounds the animals’ animal-ness. Unlike filmic adaptations of the novel, the animals are never given any first-person lines of internal or spoken dialogue. This maintains the integrity of their depiction as real animals who communicate with each other and understand the world without language.
In this section, Burnford also deepens her thematic engagement with the interior life of the domestic animals. There are several references made to each animal’s deeply embedded genetic instincts—instincts that they inherited from their wild ancestors. In typical cat fashion, Tao is wilder than both of his canine companions—adjusting instantaneously to life in the wild with his adept hunting skills and aloof confidence. Bodger showcases his instincts for fighting during his run-ins with the bear cub and the collie. Luath’s instinctual inner compass that leads the animals inexorably westward exemplifies his wild ancestry, but his poor hunting skills also speak to the domestication and the purposeful breeding out of certain characteristics in his genetic lineage.
Burnford also brings the deep bonds of friendship, mutual dependence, and loyalty that exist between the animals into sharp focus in this section. Luath’s immediate choice to stick by Bodger’s left side in order to compensate for the elder dog’s lack of hearing in his left ear exemplifies Luath’s love for his friend. Both Luath and Tao assume an attitude of protectiveness and patience for the elder Bodger from the outset of the journey. At different turns throughout the dangerous and treacherous journey, the animals demonstrate their loving care for and solidarity with one another. Tao rescues Bodger from the bear cub. The two dogs mourn deeply when they believe Tao to be drowned. But it’s also clear that their human companions for whom the animals are ultimately facing each of these dangers. The animals’ steadfast loyalty and devotion to their human family is both their beacon and purpose.



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