Buried Alive! Read Online Free PDF

wolverine bodies.”
    â€œYep. I was the first ranger on the scene, although the actual call came from Chaz Green from the Wolverine Rescue Program. He had his dogsled out by Kantishna when he discovered the bodies, and he called us immediately. When I mushed out I found two dead male wolverines only a few feet apart. So weird. You talked to Chaz, didn’t you, Olivia?”
    â€œYes. He called me in Jackson Hole and told me what he knew. He was really helpful—and very passionate about the wolverines. I went to his Web site and was truly impressed.”
    â€œHe sure wants to protect those critters,” Blake agreed. “I wish there were more people like him.”
    Blake was tall and muscular, with deep-set eyes the same flinty gray as his hair, which curled over his collar like a baby’s fingers. He had a well-trimmed beard, something Jack wasn’t used to in park rangers. Most of the ones Jack had met were clean-shaven.
    The skin on Blake’s face and hands had been burned a leathery brown-red, and deep lines ran from the corners of his eyes all the way to his ears, like tiny curtain pleats. He was the type of ranger who looked as tough as the land he patrolled.
    â€œChaz is the guy taking us mushing, right?” Jack asked.
    â€œThat’s right.” Olivia nodded. “He volunteered to take you kids on a sled dog expedition while I’m examining the wolverine bodies.”
    â€œYou ever been mushing, Jack?” Blake asked.
    Jack shook his head. “This’ll be my first time.”
    â€œOh, you’ll love it.” Reaching beneath his seat, Blake pulled out a small water bottle, snapped the plastic ring with a quick motion, then raised it to his lips. After a few swallows he added, “The dogs love it, too—they’re bred for the job. You glide over that glassy tundra so fast you’ll swear you’re flying. I used to run the sled dog team at Denali kennels, and I’ve mushed the area to Wonder Lake many a time, just me and the dogs and nature. Nothing’s better.”
    â€œI have a question,” Jack began. He’d been around enough park rangers to know that most came in two types: the quiet ones, and the ones who were natural-born teachers. Blake was in the second category, hands down.
    â€œOK,” Blake grinned. “I’m ready. Shoot.”
    â€œHow come the park still uses dogsleds instead of snowmobiles? I mean, Mom said there were snowmobile tracks by the wolverine bodies, so it must be OK to use them in Denali, right?”
    â€œYes and no,” Blake answered. “It’s complicated. There’s Denali Wilderness, the additions to the National Park that we got in 1980, and the National Preserve. Snow machining is allowed in the park additions, where the dead wolverines were found.”
    â€œBut you rangers just use the dogsleds—”
    â€œâ€”and that seems an archaic way to get around the park,” Blake finished for him. “Well, let’s think about it a minute. First of all, snow machines depend on gasoline to power them. Our dogs need a few fat bars and a couple bites of snow when we’re out on patrol, and then of course dog kibble and more water at night. Which do you think is gentler on the environment?”
    Jack smiled. That was easy—the fat bars and mouthfuls of snow. Very biodegradable.
    â€œA second reason is that our dogs don’t bark when they’re running, which means there’s no noise pollution with our dog teams. Snow machines make an unholy racket. That’s why they’re outlawed in the wilderness area. Did you know,” he asked, training his steel gray eyes on Jack, “that Denali is the only national park with a working sled dog team?”
    â€œNo. That’s really cool.”
    â€œDarn right it is.” Blake leaned forward eagerly and rested his water bottle on his knee. Now it seemed he was really warming up.