by Bill Doyle
“What do you want us to do?” Moonbeam asked.
“Pack them up. Carefully and with respect. There’s a cooler there next to the fridge, and I got some ice from the cafeteria in those two bags. I called Wildlife Management Services—the agency in charge of the Wilderness. They want to see all the evidence. I’m going to drop it off over at their offices first thing in the morning.”
Jackie said, “Why do you need us for this?”
“Five brains are better than one, I always say,” Conrad answered. “Plus, I wanted to get this dude’s opinion on something.” I realized he was looking at me. “Come on over here, Mal. I need your help. I’ve been able to identify all the other birds I found. But I’m having a tough time figuring out the species of the bird you found in the stream today. I know you’ve studied condors. Does your know-how cover other rare birds?”
“Yes,” I told him.
Using Conrad’s sketches, we figured together that the bird I had found was a very rare partridge. I recognized it from a picture in one of my books.
“What will you do with the information?” I asked Conrad.
“I use it to make triangles,” he said. “Sounds wacky, I know. But it’s like this, man.” He took a pen and a piece of paper and drew a triangle:
FOUND NEAR STREAM IN WILDERNESS
“I replace the question marks with answers that I know and hope that they help lead me to answers for the ones I don’t. Look. For the bird you found, I can write in the area of the crime scene. It was somewhere near the stream in the Wilderness. And now thanks to you, I can fill in the victim’s identity. It’s a partridge.” Conrad sketched a partridge at the base of the triangle.
“That just leaves the suspect as a question mark,” I observed.
Conrad tapped his pen thoughtfully. “Lots of times it turns out that the suspect is another animal or a disease caused by nature. Like, avian botulism can wipe out millions of birds in one year. But I don’t think that’s true this time. Check out this tissue sample. I took it from a dead bird I found yesterday.”
Leading me over to a microscope, Conrad gestured for me to take a look. With my eye to the lens, all I could see was smooth, pink tissue. “There are no lesions or tumors or anything. No signs of disease,” I observed. “This tissue looks perfectly healthy.”
Nodding, Conrad said, “It’s true for all of them. Disease didn’t kill them, which might mean these birds did not die natural deaths. Are your instincts telling you anything?”
Of course they were. “SILENT SPRING,” I answered.
“Good detective work, Mal. DDT was my first thought, too.”
“But…?” I asked.
“This is the Wilderness.” Conrad said. “This is a primitive area protected by Bev Prokos and other professionals. Their job is to keep it safe, and they’d never use DDT.”
“Who’s Bev Prokos?”
“The director of Wildlife Management Services,” Conrad answered. “She’s new at WMS. I called her after I found the first few birds and again today, after you found the bird in the stream.”
I took another look at the partridge. “What else have you noticed about the birds you found?”
Conrad said, “I weighed them all, and most of them were underweight.”
“Weight loss is a sign of DDT poisoning,” I remembered. “But DDT might have nothing to do with it. They might have been underweight because they were having trouble finding food.” I thought some more. “What about birds’ eggs? Are the shells thin?”
“You’re right, man.” Conrad sounded impressed. “DDT in the area would cause thin eggshells. The shells would be so weak, they’d collapse under the weight of the nesting birds. But I haven’t found shells like that in any nests, thank goodness.”
I nodded. “I guess that just leaves the brains. If they did die from DDT or a pesticide like DDT, the chemical would show up there. Can we check that out?”
Conrad gestured toward the room. “I don’t have the equipment. That’s why I’m sending everything over to Bev. She has the tools to run tests on the brain tissue.”
Finished with our examination, Conrad tucked his triangle notes into the worktable’s drawer. The other kids were finishing up, placing the last birds into the cooler.
Conrad and I went to the sink to wash our hands. I guess I was acting strange, because he asked, “What’s up, Mal?”
I turned on the tap. “I’m thinking about the condors. They’re already endangered. If something is killing the birds, it could wipe them out completely.”
“Not to worry, dude. I thought the same thing. Bev promised she’d send someone to the Sanctuary to take a look. Besides,” he continued, “I’ll be leading a field trip to the Sanctuary next month. I can check on it then.”
Drying my hands with a towel, I thought about all the poor birds that were now on ice in the cooler.
I just hoped the field trip would come soon enough for the condors.
INTD THE WILDERNESS!
September 30, 1969
11:40 am
The past week has been kind of a blur. I’ve been busy finding my way around and trying to catch up in all my classes, like English and History. But Ecology is still the funkiest.
This morning, when Conrad met the class in front of Dulson Hall, he had a bounce to his step. He shouted, “Into the wild, you gorillas!” and off we went.
I caught up with him as we walked along the trail. “You look much happier, Conrad.”
He grinned. “I am. Bev Prokos called me this morning. She checked on the condors and told me they’re fine.”
“That’s fantastic!” I said. “Any news on what killed the other birds?”
“She hasn’t tested their brains yet, but Bev thinks the cause of death is natural.” He clapped me on the back. “And guess what, man? We’ve finally going to cross the stream today. President Roust gave me the okay to take you guys into the Wilderness.”
Wow! This would be my first time in the actual protected area. Harvey overheard our conversation, and soon the whole class was buzzing with excitement as we walked.
We reached the stream, but for once, we didn’t stop at its banks. Rocks had created a kind of natural walkway across the stream. It was tricky, leaping from one slippery rock to the next, but we all made it without plunging into the chilly water.
On the other side of the stream, we pushed past the low brush that lined the bank. I tried to soak everything in: checking to see if I spotted any new species of plants, fungi, or animal tracks. After about a quarter mile of walking, we stopped beneath a towering red oak tree.
Conrad announced, “Today’s mystery is How on Earth Will I get Home? These are blindfolds.” He held up strips of blue cloth, which he had removed from his backpack. “Everybody take one and put it on.”
We did. He told us to hold hands, and he led us like a chain a little further into the wilderness. Finally he said, “Stop!” and then quickly added, “Now spin!”
“What?” I heard Moonbeam ask.
“Release each other’s hands and spin around twelve times. It’s all part of today’s mystery.”
I started to spin. From the giggling and stumbling sounds of the other kids, I could tell they were doing the same thing.
“Okay,” Conrad said, once we had completed our revolutions. “You can take off your blindfolds now.” We did, and I squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings. We were in a dry clearing. Some scrub grass managed to eke out a living on top of the dusty ground.
“Good job, gorillas,” Conrad announced. “Now you just have to find your way back to campus.”
Instinctively, I looked up at the sky. The position of the sun would tell me where we were. But, of course, Conrad had known that would make things too easy. He’d waited for a day when the clouds were low and thick and effectively blocked out the sun.
“We’re lost!” Kim screeched. “We’ll never find our way back!”
Conrad gave her a gentle smile. “Here’s clue. Campus is d
ue north from here. If you walk from this clearing heading north, you’ll run right into Dulson Hall.”
“We’ll just follow you back to school,” Kyle said triumphantly.
“Wrong. I’m going to follow you to make sure nothing happens to any of you gorillas, but I won’t say a word. I want you to use the clues of nature. And, remember, those clues might be marching along right next to you.” Taking two steps back, Conrad said, “I am now officially gone. Act like I’m not here.”
There was silence for a moment as we all tried to digest what he’d just said. Then, like a shot, kids were rushing around, searching the area and looking at their watches. I knew right away that they were trying to use a direction-finding technique we’d learned in class.
I had the old pocket watch that had been passed along for generations in my family. That and my digging stick would have been the perfect combo to find my way north. But the low, gray clouds didn’t let enough light through to cast a strong shadow.
No, I’d have to think of another way—one that didn’t involve the sun. What had Conrad said? Something about marching…
Jackie walked over to me. “You have an idea, don’t you?”
All the other kids were now staring at me. They had given up trying to create shadow. Might as well put everyone’s brains to work, I decided.
“We should use the clue Conrad gave us,” I said. “Think of something that marches.”
Kim said, “Time marches on.” Another kid offered, “The school has a marching band.”
Moonbeam had two ideas: “A calendar has March. And soldiers march.”
This last idea seemed to spark a thought in Jackie. “Ants,” Jackie said with certainty. “Ants march.”
“That’s it!” I cried, and started searching the dusty ground. “I just read OUTDOOR SURVIVAL SKILLS by Larry Olsen. There’s reason Conrad left us in this dry, flat area of the Wilderness. There are plenty of these!” I pointed at the cone-shaped piles of dirt that reached up to my calf.
“These are red ant mounds,” I said. “Red ants build their mounds with a natural heating system.” I traced a finger in the air above one side of the mound. “This steep side absorbs the heat better than the other sides. So it usually faces south—to catch the most sun. And that means we just have to head in the opposite direction of the steep sides, and—”
“We’ll be heading north,” Jackie finished my sentence.
“And back to school!” Kim cried as if we’d been lost for days instead of minutes.
Moonbeam shouted, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
With one last glance at the ant mounds to make sure I was heading in the right direction, I led the class out of the clearing. Conrad trailed behind us.
“No!” Kyle whined. “Mal can’t always win! That’s not fair:”
True to his word, Conrad didn’t say anything. Though I saw him roll his eyes.
“I can get there first! I’ll find a shortcut!” Kyle yelled. And, with that, he darted off into a nearby stand of trees.
Conrad instantly broke his silence and burst into action. “Stop! you’re going the wrong way!” he shouted, but Kyle didn’t respond. We just heard rustling as he raced away from the group. Conrad looked at us. “Okay. The challenge is over. No one move until I get back. Dig?”
Conrad rushed off through the trees to find Kyle.
Once he was gone, the remaining twenty-four students clustered together.
“We’re doomed!” Kim cried. I was about to say something to comfort her. Then I heard it…
A low growling sound.
Oh, no I thought. Maybe this time Kim was right.
I glanced down and saw a paw print in the dirt. It had four large toes and a pad in the back.
Turning to the others, I said, “We have to get out of here. Now.”
But even as I spoke, I knew it was too late.
A creature emerged from the low brush and crouched down about 30 yards in front of us.
The animal’s tail had a black tip and was about a third of the length of its plain reddish body. Whisking back and forth, the tail sliced lazily through the air.
It was a mountain lion!
The mountain lion has more common names than any other cat: cougar, puma, catamount, deer tiger, panther, American lion, and on and on. I could think of one new name for the list: terrifying.
Mountain lions don’t usually want to fight. They like to get their food with as little trouble as possible. The few attacks that have taken, place usually involved mountain lions that were too old or sick to chase down deer and other animals. These sick cats were forced to go after easier, slower prey—
Like a group of kids in the Wilderness.
This one was a big female, about 125 pounds. Her whiskers were pushed forward and her ears pressed back tight against her head—sure signs that this big cat meant business.
I held out the sides of my jacket to make myself look bigger. And then I smiled.
Jackie was standing next to me. “What are you doing?” she said.
Keeping the forced grin on my face, I said, “Smile!”
“Are you crazy?” one of the kids cried.
“Show your teeth. It’s a sign of aggression and might scare her away. Do it!” I ordered. The air filled with the humming noise some people make when they pretend to smile. “Now we need to slowly inch away. Don’t run!”
The mountain lion was still moving toward us. We had to do something fast.
“Yell! Make as much noise as you can,” I told the others. “We have to make her think that we’re dangerous. We all started shouting.
Still, the mountain lion didn’t flee. Her head was low to the ground. Her ears turned forward and her back legs starting pumping slightly. This position meant the cat was getting ready to attack.
All the books said there was nothing to lose now. You were supposed to strike first at this point. But I wasn’t sure—
The cat was coming closer, and I could see strings of mucus dripping from her dark nostrils. Something was wrong with this animal. She looked sick.
I realized she wasn’t getting ready to attack, after all. She was quivering because she was near collapse.
Her gold-flecked eyes met mine. They were unfocused and murky. Then, as if something were calling her, she turned her head. Slowly, she moved off the trail and back into the brush.
She was gone. Everyone stopped yelling. For a moment, we were frozen, stunned and unsure what to do.
Conrad burst out of the trees. He was pulling Kyle along with him. Conrad’s panicked eyes ran over us, and I could see him mentally counting each of his students. “Thank goodness,” he said. “I thought I heard you screaming.”
“You did.” I quickly described to him what had happened.
Conrad gathered himself together. “Okay, I want you all to stay calm. Stay together. Mal’s right. If you look like a larger target, it will help keep you safe.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“If I can just see where she’s headed, I can send help for her later.” He paused for a second more and said, “This is VERY dangerous. I need you guys to be extremely careful. Mountain lions sometimes come back.”
Conrad disappeared into the brush.
“I’m not staying here,” Kyle said.
“Don’t move!” Kim commanded in a firm tone, and Kyle stayed put. And I think I was more shocked by Kim’s behavior than anything. Maybe facing your worst fears is easier than worrying about them all the time.
The wind blew through the trees overhead. The kids around me waited anxiously.
Finally, after a few moments, Conrad returned—his shoulders slumped, his face sad.
“What happened?” I asked.
He said in a soft voice. “The mountain lion died. Just over that little hill…”
Oh, no! I thought. And even Kyle seemed stunned by the words.
“How?” I asked.
Conrad was shaken. “I’m not sure. She WAS sick
and just lay down, and…”
Jackie asked quietly, “Should we bury her?”
“No,” Conrad snapped. Then, wiping his eyes, he gave her a little smile. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I just have the feeling something isn’t right here. I’d check it out more, but I have to get you kids back to school now.”
He put a hand on Kim’s shoulder. The girl had tears streaming down her face. “I’ll call Bev Prokos when we get back to the school,” he said. “She’ll come out here and figure out what happened.”
I don’t know if Conrad caught me glancing back as we walked, but he said in a loud voice to all of us: “And I don’t want any of you sneaking back here to check things out for yourselves. Do you hear me?”
I heard some of the other kids say that they understood. But I didn’t answer.
MY FRIENDS WERE READY TO GO.
September 30, 1969
4:35 pm
I tried to listen to Conrad, I really did. I went back to my dorm room and stared at my history textbook. We’re having a quiz tomorrow on the Big One, the San Francisco Earthquake. But I kept reading the same sentence over and over.
All I could thing about was dead birds, aggressive predators, and missing animals. The Wilderness was going haywire!
Something about the mountain lion’s behavior had triggered my detective’s instincts. I had a hunch. If I were right, I needed to take a look at the mountain lion myself.
Closing my textbook, I headed to the door and opened it. Jackie was standing there, about to knock. Behind her were Moonbeam and Harvey. From their faces, I could tell we were all thinking the same thing.
“Let’s go,” Jackie said.
And she didn’t even have to tell me where.
We were going back into the Wilderness.
