“Where should we go first, Mare?” Jody asked as she combed Star’s half-black, half-white mane. “We could take him down by the creek and see if he wants to splash around in it.”
“No, no, that means we would have to walk by the pasture and he would see Lady. I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. I’m a little worried about taking him out at all in case he tries to take off and run over to her.”
“Oh, he’s not going to do that. Are you, Star?” Jody asked, as Star rubbed his head up and down, up and down on her arm. “I honestly think he’s forgotten all about Lady. And Willie said Lady’s milk is almost dried up, so maybe we can turn them out together pretty soon.”
“I know!” Mary said, jumping from her bale of hay and clapping her hands. “I almost forgot! Remember that day we helped Mr. McMurray load the straw wagon, and for payment he said we could get one of the squabs out of the pigeon house and adopt him and keep him for a pet? We could walk Star up to the pigeon house and pick out a squab! That’s the opposite direction of the pasture!”
“I didn’t know he said that! But let’s do it! I can’t wait! But . . . what is a squab, anyway?” Jody asked sheepishly.
“I didn’t know either, at first,” laughed Mary. “But I looked it up. It means, ‘a nestling pigeon,’ or a baby, in other words.”
“Oh! OK, Star, you can help us pick one out. I think we should put your saddle on so you can get used to it on our trip around the farm,” Jody said, giving Star an extra brushing on his back where the saddle would sit.
“Grand idea!” said Mary, already on her way to Jody’s tack trunk to get out the saddle and girth. “He’s already gotten used to it in the paddock, so he shouldn’t mind it on a little walk.”
The saddle was put on and the girth tightened, and the trio started out from Lucky Foot Stable on a walk up the gravel path toward Mr. McMurray’s big stone house. The white pigeon house with the green-shingled roof sat in the farmyard next to the chicken house where Mary and Jody occasionally helped Mrs. McMurray gather the brown eggs from her Rhode Island Red hens. As they approached the farmyard, Star pricked up his ears and raised his muzzle to the air, sniffing curiously at the unfamiliar smells drifting from the houses.
“Star, we brought you here once before, when you were little. Remember?” Jody whispered in his ear as she walked him straight to the pigeon house door. “But look, Mr. McMurray has the screen door on this time to keep it cool in there.”
Wide-eyed, Star peered through the gray screen of the door and snorted inquisitively. At the strange noise, the startled pigeons flew from their perches with a whirring of wings and darted from wall to wall of the pigeon house in a frenzy. In response, Star snorted again and reared straight up in the air, almost knocking Jody off her feet!
“Jode! Hold on, I’ve got him!” Mary said, grabbing the lead rope tightly as Star came down, in anticipation of him trying to run off as fast as he could. But, to the girl’s surprise, Star stood fast and stared inquisitively once more through the dusty screen.
“I don’t think he’s as scared as we thought,” Jody said. “He just got startled for a second. Look, I think he wants to go in!”
And he did. Star extended his muzzle and pushed gingerly on the screen door, even taking a step forward as if to walk straight in if someone would only open the door wide enough.
“Do you think we should bring him in with us?” Jody wondered. “It would be good to get him used to scary things, and he definitely wants to see what’s in there!”
“I don’t see why not! I don’t think Mr. McMurray would mind,” Mary said hesitantly, looking around to make sure Mr. McMurray wasn’t anywhere nearby.
“You open the door, and I’ll lead him in,” Jody instructed. “If we do it like Willie taught us when we were learning to load Lady onto the truck, like nothing out of the ordinary is happening, he should come right in!”
“Here goes!” Mary obliged.
Squueeeaaakkk, complained the rickety old door as Mary pushed it open. Star threw his head up in alarm, but he stood his ground and immediately stuck his head through the open door, sniffing nosily and taking another curious step forward.
“Come on, buddy,” Jody encouraged. “Those old pigeons won’t hurt you; they just fly around a lot and make all kinds of noise.”
Jody pulled gently on Star’s lead, and he pulled gently back, not quite sure about going all the way into the musty, dim pigeon house.
“Come on, Star,” Mary said impatiently, “you have to help us pick out a squab to raise in Lucky Foot Stable. We don’t have all day!”
“Give him time, Mare. It is pretty scary in there.”
But Star didn’t need any more time. His natural curiosity overcame him and he stepped boldly through the door, walking squarely to the center of the house and looking up wide-eyed at the pigeons, who were standing on their perches and gazing just as inquiringly back at him.
“Look, Mare, they’re not even flying around! I thought they’d be in a panic when Star came in. I know they’ve never seen anything like him before!”
“Oh, yes, they have. These are homing pigeons, and Mr. McMurray lets them out once in a while to fly outside. They’ve seen cows and horses before. I bet they’re more scared of us than they are of him! Come on, let’s pick out a squab!”
Just then, a beautiful snow white bird with a shapely head and feathers all the way down his legs and feet sailed across the pigeon house, landing on a perch on the other side, and peered unruffled and dignified at the spectacle of two girls and a colt intruding upon his domain.
“Look, Jode! There’s Sky King!” Mary exclaimed.
Mary had given this name to the stately pigeon one day after watching him glide through the air from perch to perch without having to flap his wings even once.
“He is gorgeous,” Jody murmured. “Maybe we can find one of his babies that’s as pretty as he is!”
Mary tiptoed quietly across the straw-covered floor of the pigeon house to the rows of nest boxes lining the far wall, Jody and Star following silently behind. The comforting coo-r, coo-r sound of contented pigeons filled the air, and all was peaceful in the house as Mary and Jody stood on tiptoe to look in the first box, where two tiny eggs lay unattended.
“I wonder why the mother isn’t sitting on these and keeping them warm?” Jody asked.
“She probably flew off the nest when Star snorted. We better leave them alone, so she’ll come back,” Mary said knowledgeably.
The next nest in line was hung higher on the wall, prompting Mary to grab a bucket and turn it upside down on the floor as a step stool.
“Here, Jode, I’ll steady the bucket while you stand on it and look in,” Mary offered generously. “Look, Star is coming right along with you! He’s not scared at all!”
Jody held Star’s lead rope in her left hand as she stepped carefully on the upside-down bucket. With her right hand, she clutched the front of the nest and looked over the edge.
Star fell back on his haunches in astonishment, sending the pigeons flying madly once more.
Whoooosh!! A mother pigeon burst from the nest directly into Jody’s surprised face, knocking her from the bucket and onto her back in the middle of the straw and pigeon droppings, while Star fell back on his haunches in astonishment, sending the pigeons flying madly once more in a frenzy of whirring wings.
“Jody! Are you OK?” Mary yelled, trying to grab Jody’s hand and Star’s lead rope at the same time. Star righted himself, snorting and pawing and lowering his head to avoid the darting pigeons, while Mary attempted to help Jody up from the sticky straw. But Jody’s feet slipped out from under her and down she went again, covering her britches with a second coating of pigeon mess. Star sniffed the sticky mass of pigeon droppings on the back of Jody’s head, raised his nose, and lifted his top lip as horses do when they smell something funny. Jody put her hand in the goo and grimaced. This was too much for Mary. She lost her grip on Jody’s other hand as she tried to suppress the b
elly laugh that rose from deep inside, worked its way up, and burst from her lips.
“Thanks, Mare. Thanks a lot,” Jody scolded, but she couldn’t help but laugh herself as Star lipped a strand of her hair and pushed her with his head as if to say, “Get up and get back to business!”
Jody pulled herself up from the gooey straw and set the overturned bucket back up as Mary took ahold of Star’s rope.
“Alright, I’m going to look in that nest one more time, now that I know the mother is gone,” Jody declared, bravely stepping onto the bucket once again and peering into the nest.
“What’s in there?” Mary asked immediately. “How many eggs?”
“Oh, Mary, there are no eggs at all,” Jody whispered.
“Well, go on to the next nest then,” Mary instructed impatiently.
“No, no . . . there aren’t any eggs, but there are two squabs! And they’ve got most of their feathers!”
“Let me see! Wait, I’ll get another bucket!” Mary exclaimed, dragging Star with her. Soon she was standing next to Jody, gazing into the nest at the two spindly, knobby-beaked squabs while Star rubbed his head up and down on the side of her leg.
“Star, quit it! Oh, Jode, look at that white one! He must be Sky King’s baby; but he’s got black spots on his head and chest. I’ve never seen one like that before!”
“Look at the other one, poor thing,” Jody murmured, touching the white squab’s nestmate gently on top of its head. This squab was as plain as the other was beautiful—a dull gray with no special features—just like the pigeons that could be seen perched on statues in the city.
Jody reached in and cupped her hands gently under the soft white breast of the beautiful black-spotted squab, nestling it against her cheek to calm its struggling at her touch.
“Mary, he’s perfect! Let’s take him down to Lucky Foot and keep him as a pet until he can fly, and then we can set him free!”
Jody looked at Mary expectantly, waiting for her enthusiastic reply. But Mary wasn’t looking at Jody or the pretty white squab. Her gaze was fixed on the forlorn, drab gray squab sitting quietly in the nest.
“Mary? Mare, what is it?” she asked.
Mary didn’t answer, but she reached slowly into the nest, gently picking up the gray squab and cradling it in her hands.
“Jody,” she said solemnly, “of course we want the beautiful squab. He’s much prettier and nicer to look at, with his white feathers and rare black spots. But . . .”
Jody looked at Mary wide-eyed. “But what?”
“Well,” Mary answered quietly, “why do we always pick the prettiest things? It’s just not fair to the ones that aren’t so pretty. If we leave the poor little gray guy here, he’ll go to market and no one will ever care because he’s not so pretty. They’ll figure he wasn’t good for anything but dinner anyway. I think we should choose him! He needs us! And look, he’s already used to me!”
And he was. The dull little squab had nestled down in Mary’s hand without a struggle, as if happy to be there. Even Star seemed to agree, sniffing the squab gently nose to beak as Mary held him out for the colt’s approval. Jody sighed and set the white squab back in the nest.
“I guess you’re right, Mare. He’ll be happy in the stable with us. Let’s go introduce him to Colonel Sanders—how do you think he’ll feel about him?”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out! Colonel Sanders, here we come!”
7
Colonel Saves the Day
COLONEL SANDERS HAPPENED to be in Lucky Foot Stable when Jody came in with Star in tow and Mary close behind, carrying their new friend. Cocking his head to the side and peering down from his perch on the top board of Lady’s stall, he eyed the new addition with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
“Look, Colonel,” called Mary, “it’s . . . it’s . . . well, who is it? We have to think of a name for him! Hmmm . . . let me see . . .”
“Mary?” Jody said timidly. “How about . . . well, what about . . .”
“Spit it out, Jody. What about what?”
“Well, do you remember that old movie we watched with your mom last week? Remember how we laughed when we saw the name of that one actor?”
“I remember laughing, but I don’t remember the name of the actor.”
“It was Walter, remember? Walter Pidgeon! Let’s name him Walter!”
Mary looked solemnly at Jody, and then she began to laugh.
“Walter! Walter Pigeon!” she chuckled. “That’s perfect! Walter it is! Now we have to make a home for him!”
Jody, suddenly feeling very proud of her suggestion, quickly made another one.
“How about the old bunny cage? We could fix it up just right for a bird.”
“Excellent idea!” Mary agreed. “And after he gets used to it, we’ll let him fly around the stable and teach him to go back to his cage to eat. Birds are very smart, you know.”
Star used that moment to stretch out his muzzle to Walter once again, startling him so that one wing escaped Mary’s grasp and smacked him soundly in the center of his nose. The girls laughed at Star’s surprised expression as he snorted and shook his head.
Not to be outdone, Colonel Sanders suddenly let his presence be known by standing to his full height, flapping his wings, and letting out a very indignant, “Ba-bawk!”
“Oh, Colonel, calm down,” Mary scolded. “You’ll see, Walter will keep you company.”
“You can help him get settled in,” added Jody generously.
“All right, troops, enough introductions for one day. Walter’s tired,” observed Mary, dragging the old bunny cage away from the wall where it had stood unoccupied for the past year. “Jody, put Star in his stall. It’s time to get Walter’s house ready.”
The girls could not bring themselves to mention the previous occupant of the cage, a brown-and-white lop-eared bunny named Uncle Wiggly, who had come to a sad demise the previous summer. The day had been too hot to ride, and Mary and Jody had decided to give the stable a thorough cleaning. Together they had picked up the rabbit cage with Uncle Wiggly inside and set it outside the stable door in the paddock, intending to keep it there just long enough to rake and sweep the dirt floor where it stood. Well, the truth was that they had gotten so involved in cleaning and raking and talking and giggling that they forgot poor old Uncle Wiggly. By the time they remembered the unfortunate bunny, he had passed out from the heat, and no matter how hard they fanned him and begged him to revive, he lay still as death. Mary even tried rubbing him down with cold water—a trick she had learned in a book once—but to no avail. Poor Uncle Wiggly never woke up. The girls had conducted a very solemn ceremony for him, burying him by the corncrib and erecting a cross made of willow switches in his honor.
Mary dragged the cage to the middle of the stable, and the girls surveyed it in silence.
“Poor old Uncle Wiggly,” Jody finally whispered.
“May he rest in peace, and we’ll say no more,” Mary answered solemnly. Then, after a deep sigh, she continued briskly, “Well, time’s a-wastin.’ We can’t cry over spilled milk. The cage will be put to good use now. Uncle Wiggly would be glad.”
“Mary, isn’t it a good thing the cage has such a high roof? It’ll be just perfect for a bird,” observed Jody.
“Yep, and you know, we’ll let him out a lot too. He won’t be caged up all the time.”
“He’ll need a food bowl, a water bowl, and a bathtub,” Jody decided. “Birds like to take baths, you know.”
“And he needs grit. All birds have to have grit for their gizzards, so they can digest their food,” Mary added knowingly. “I read that in a book once. And as for watering, watch this!”
Mary walked over to the stable water pump, pulled up the handle, cupped her hands under the flowing water, and took some in her mouth. Then she took Walter from Jody’s grasp, opened her mouth so that her tongue was rolled back and her jaw made sort of a water bowl, and pushed Walter’s head gently down so that his beak just touched
the water.
“Mary!” shrieked Jody. “What are you doing?!”
At the shocked expression on Jody’s face, Mary laughed so hard she spit the water across the stable. “I’m teaching him how to drink from my mouth! It’s an ancient Indian custom. I think. I don’t know, I read about it somewhere. Watch. I’ll try again. I think he’s going to get it!”
So Mary again took in some water and gently pushed Walter’s beak into her open mouth. To Jody’s amazement, the plucky bird sipped some of the water and tilted his head back to swallow it, as birds do.
“Mary, did you see that? He drank some!” Jody yelped.
Mary could only nod slightly as she held Walter close to her open mouth. This time he cocked his head to one side, eyed the welcoming water, and took a drink with no encouragement. Jody giggled with delight as Colonel Sanders clucked indignantly and shook his head at the scandalous behavior. Mary spit out the rest of the water and held Walter up, looking him directly in the eye.
“Walter,” she said solemnly, “you are going to be all right. After your feathers grow and you can fly, we’ll let you out so you can have your freedom. But never forget, we are now eternally bonded.” Walter only blinked. “Now, let’s get your cage ready!”
While the girls busied themselves scrubbing water and feed bowls and preparing a comfortable home for Walter, an unwelcome guest crept into the stable and silently leapt onto an old shelf and then up to the wooden rafters above their heads. Creeping slowly, his belly low on the rough boards, the creature surveyed the activity below with his round yellow eyes. His name was Beamer, but his reputation for catching mice on the farm had prompted Mary to give him the title Supreme Barn Mouser. Unseen by the girls, he sat directly above them and began nonchalantly cleaning his black and white fur as they ruffled the bed of straw in the corner of the old bunny cage, arranging it just so. Meanwhile, Walter sat motionless where the girls had placed him in a small cardboard box on a stool in front of Star’s stall, awaiting his new home.
Star of Wonder Page 4
