Runt
4/5
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About this ebook
Despite his size, Runt manages to keep up with his brothers and sisters and learn the ways of the pack. But he finds it impossible to please his father, the pack’s leader, and gradually withdraws from the others. When he ventures into forbidden human territory, Runt at last comes to understand his mistakes and to recognize his own worth. Award-winning author Marion Dane Bauer combines her gift for evocative writing with her in-depth knowledge of wolves to create a compact tale that has the power of an epic. Like the best animal stories, it reflects our own world and shows us what it means to be alive. Afterword.
Marion Dane Bauer
Marion Dane Bauer has written more than one hundred children's books, including picture books, easy readers, early chapter books, and novels. She won a Newbery Honor for On My Honor, a middle grade coming-of-age story. She lives in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. www.mariondanebauer.com.
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Reviews for Runt
53 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5First of all I am a sucker for wolves and who cannot but help fall in love with this cute wolf pup on the cover? And yes I will say I fell for the cover thus ordering it without really knowing what the story was going to be about. Anyway I cannot say I was disappointed with the story, which will truly capture the minds of any child as anyone can relate. Runt lives a troubled life as a wolf pup whose experiences conflict with the way that his pack lives so he is always fighting himself based upon those experiences as well as the attitudes of his family. Being so small he finds he cannot live up to what the others want of him so his desire to prove himself just keeps getting him in more and more trouble with his family, his environment and even family "friends". The story will make you pause and think as well as to relate. What do we struggle with? How do we want others to see us? How do we react to all the problems with us? And do we listen when the voice of wisdom speaks to us? The only main letdowns for me is the fact the story was dry in some parts and the author didn't put a lot of personality in the non-major wolf players. Furthermore while I was reading I was struck by the fact (it was emphasized with the two top book recommendations for young readers) that the main wolf players copy in appearance the wolves of Jean Craighead George's "Julie" series with the black Amaroq, his look-alike son Kapu, Silver (the mother of both black pups) and even the dastardly bully wolf who was named Raw Bones in the series. In a sense I wish the author had been a bit more creative with her own wolf characters.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Seemingly rooted in a classic tale of triumph in the face of hardship for the runt of a litter, this middle level novel teems with a far-from-ordinary intricate interplay of fact and fiction. Though he enters his father’s pack as Runt, this determined young wolf perseveres to earn himself a new name. The artfully crafted plot engages readers in a balance of excitement, suspense, and emotion with realistic depictions of wildlife and an introspective protagonist. Extra wide margins frame the moderate text, which is broken into short paragraphs characterized by a blend of dialog and descriptive yet relatively simple language. Though more complex, likely unfamiliar words can be found interspersed throughout the 22 short chapters, ample context clues aid readers in extracting meaning. In a short “afterword,” the author elaborates upon factual information about wolves, drawing comparisons between natural elements and the events that unfold throughout the story.
Book preview
Runt - Marion Dane Bauer
1
Spring comes late to the forests of northern Minnesota. Geese soar in from the south, only to stand flat-footed on frozen lakes, complaining loudly to one another. Bears, groggy and cross, emerge to a world still cloaked in snow. Deer search in vain for tender shoots. Yet the wolf pups pushing their way into the world found their den warm and dry and welcoming.
Their silver mother greeted them, one by one, drying wet fur with her tongue and massaging breath into each tiny body. And though their eyes were sealed, their ears folded tightly against their heads, she could guess already what place each would take in the pack.
Leader
she named the first brown pup, a vigorous male. The second, a female, she called Sniffer.
And she gave Sniffer's twitching nose an extra lick. Another female arrived, with spindly legs already in motion. Runner,
Silver said. You will be swift and sure-footed, and the pack will need you.
Then she drew the pup toward her nurturing body. The fourth emerged with his brow furrowed. Thinker,
his mother said fondly, licking his forehead smooth. You will always be watching and planning, won't you?
The den, dug into a hill above a frozen lake, angled downward from the entrance for six feet, then made a ninety-degree turn and rose for another six feet to the birthing room. The pups' father, King, a large black wolf with a white star on his chest, had been lying at the turn of the narrow tunnel, listening, waiting. As each pup emerged, his tail wagged fiercely. When the fourth pup had settled at the mother's side, King backed rapidly toward the surface.
Four pups,
he told the others waiting there. Four healthy pups. Each one of them big and strong!
Then he danced, leaping and whirling for the joy of the new life that had come to the pack.
Helper, a young tan male born to these same parents the year before, danced, too. His silver sister, Hunter, joined them. How fine to have pups!
they sang. How fine, too, no longer to be the youngest, the least in the pack!
Bider, a mature male, pure white, came forward. What good news, King,
he said, lowering his body and reaching up to nudge his leader's chin.
A few moments later, however, when King and the two yearlings lifted their heads to sing the new pups' praise, Bider looked on in silence. Once he, too, had been king. He'd had his own pack, his own pups to sing for. But that was before he had been deposed and driven out to hunt alone in the darkest part of winter. Now he waited, biding his time ... and another king's pups were not what he was waiting for. He turned from the celebration.
The howl finished, King crawled once more into the den to check on his new family. Leader, Sniffer, Runner, Thinker. What splendid pups!
This time, though, he stopped, puzzled, halfway between the entrance and the birthing room. What was that new smell? He strained to see in the deep dark of the den. The eyes of a wolf gather in even the faintest rays of light, so he could just make out the four brown furry bundles lined up along their mother's belly. They were nursing vigorously, intent on their first meal. King's tail went into motion at the very sight of them.
But Silver was busy with something more. A pup? Was she washing another pup? Yes. This one black like his father, black with a minute white star on his chest.
King's own chest swelled at the sight, and he inched forward eagerly. A look-alike son! What name would his mate choose for this son who wore his black fur and white star?
But Silver offered no name. She only went on licking.
King scooted forward further to check his son himself. He sniffed the new pup from nose to tail, tail to nose again, then drew back slowly.
Something was wrong. The black pup was small. Much too small. And he was not yet breathing.
Runt!
The name exploded from King. This one's a runt.
The world beyond the den was a good one, but it was hard. Only the strongest, the best, the most intelligent and competent survived in it. And sometimes not even they. Two of the pups in the last litter had died before they ever emerged from the den. Their mother had taken them, one at a time, off into the forest to bury them. Would she be doing the same again?
At last, under Silver's persistent tongue, the black pup took a breath. Then another. Air filled his tiny lungs, just as it did his brothers' and sisters', and his mother drew him gently toward her belly to begin to nurse.
Only then did Silver acknowledge her mate and the name that had sprung unbidden from his lips. He may be Runt for now,
she said, laying her chin across this latest arrival, but who knows what gift he may bring to the pack?
Who knows?
King repeated softly, though wasn't the pup's mother supposed to know? She always had before. Maybe,
he added, you have a better name.
Silver was silent for a long time. No,
she said at last, I know no other. Not yet.
Which only confirmed King's fears. His son was marked for death.
The pups' father looked long and hard at his five offspring, especially at this last, the one whose black fur and white star filled him with such love. Then, tail wagging more slowly this time, he backed toward the surface to carry this further news to the pack.
Leader, Sniffer, Runner, Thinker. Four fine pups.
And Runt. Now there was Runt.
2
For the next few weeks Runt and his brothers and sisters emerged slowly into a world of scent and sight and sound. Their eyes opened. Stiletto teeth popped through pink gums. They drank their mother's warm milk and snuggled against her side to sleep, then woke to nurse and drifted into sleep again. Silver rarely left them except to get water, and when she did, she was always back almost before the befuddled pups had recognized her absence.
Gradually, they came to be aware of the great black wolf who came often into the den. He brought with him the rich scent of the meat he carried in his mouth for their mother or coughed up for her from his belly. But the pups had no interest in meat yet.
Gradually, too, as they crawled over the pile of fuzzy bodies to reach milk and warmth and the comforting caress of their mother's tongue, they began to notice one