Sil

by Jill Harris

  Moving with utter stealth, Sil tree-hopped deeper into the bush. A small movement caught his eye and he froze. A tui clung to a branch, swaying back and forth gazing fixedly ahead. Sil hopped over to her.

  “Tam?” he whispered. “Tam?” The tui looked through him with glazed eyes. She was murmuring to herself. Sil bent closer.

  “He squealed, he squealed,” she said over and over.

  “Tam, it’s Sil,” he said, but she was quite unaware of his presence.

  He had to keep going to the family’s tree. As he came closer he heard small, furtive sounds from the ground. Our enemies, he thought with loathing. They’re scavenging for whatever’s left.

  A soft, high keening began and he followed the sound. It led home. Mem was crouched against the wrecked nest with her eyes closed.

  Sil landed beside her and her eyes flew open.

  “Sil!” she exclaimed and the tears flowed down her face.

  Sil laid his beak on her head. “Mem,’ he whispered, “Roz is safe.”

  “Safe! Oh, where?”

  “Down by the brown house,” said Sil, and briefly told her what had happened.

  “I must go to her! I have to look after her!” cried Mem. “Nowhere is safe anymore! Oh, Sil, however did you manage to hide in a kennel?”

  But Sil was looking around. “Where are the others?” he asked fearfully.

  “Pip’s missing,” Mem answered, “but I’ve seen Bel and Bek. They’re with Jeb, looking for survivors.” She looked at Sil in anguish. “Am I one of the lucky ones? All my children have survived. But where is my Pip?”

  “Are you strong enough to fly to Roz?” asked Sil. “Shall I come with you?”

  But Mem said he would be more use helping in the bush.

  “I didn’t see any magpies,” he told her, “but it would be like them to come back to pick off the survivors. You need to be very watchful.”

  “I’ll stay down by the house till tomorrow,” said Mem. “There’s nowhere up here for Roz to sleep. Whose nest did you say she’s in?”

  Sil told her again exactly where Roz was. “You can trust the dog. His name’s Tom. He’ll do what he can to help.”

  Mem flew off and Sil looked around him, sick at heart. He felt deeply disturbed by the absolute silence. What did it mean? Had most birds died?

  He must find Bek and Bel. And where was Bron? With all his senses straining for the slightest sign of a magpie, he hopped deeper into the bush.

  28.

  A Shot in the Dark

  NOT many gathered for the singing-in the next morning.

  “They won’t frighten me away!” said most of the birds who came.

  It was immediately obvious that the tuis had been singled out by the magpies. Only five were present — Jeb, Tor, Bek and Sil, and another tui from further down the valley.

  As the light strengthened, the birds remained silent, too dispirited to sing. It wasn’t till the hills across the sea were lit by the sun and the houses gleamed and flashed that Sil took a deep breath and sang a tentative note. The song came from nowhere. He had never sung or heard it before — it seemed to sing itself and Sil was just the instrument. It was a lament, slow and deep and heavy with pain. Sil sang it for Pip and Bron, who were missing, and for all the birds taken and homes destroyed.

  No bird joined in and when Sil stopped there was a long silence. A thrush finally spoke up.

  “Dear friends, no words can express our sorrow like the song we have just heard. We grieve deeply for the tuis who have borne the brunt of this latest outrage. We don’t know why you were targeted in this way. We seem to be powerless to stop the scourge.”

  Jeb then spoke. “We thank you for your sympathy and support. There is no family that does not grieve a loss today. Seventeen tuis are missing.”

  There was a gasp of horror. Jeb went on: “Friends, we know why we were targeted and it is time for us to tell you why.” He paused. “Four days ago a group of young tuis launched a campaign to get rid of the magpies. It involved persuading the humans that the magpies had to be controlled. It has been remarkably promising so far, but we need to see it through. The magpies are trying to stop us.

  “Although our numbers are so reduced, we are resolved to continue. We believe this is our best hope for ridding ourselves of the magpies.”

  “What can we do to help?” asked several voices at once.

  “The most helpful thing would be to sit with those not involved in the campaign, who are afraid to wait alone while their families are away in the night. There is always the risk that the magpies will return. That would become your risk, too.”

  There was a low buzz of conversation.

  The thrush spoke up again. “My wife and I will organise a roster. Please, everyone, let me know by mid-morning if you can help. I live in the high hedge between the field and the road.”

  “That really is very good of you,” said Jeb. “I’ll call in at midday to check on progress.”

  The birds dispersed. Jeb, Tor, Bek and Sil flew back to Jeb’s tree. Bel was already there with Bron’s mother, and three other tuis flew in soon after.

  Sil looked around at them all. Their feathers were bedraggled, their eyes dull. They had spent the previous day flying around seeing things they would never forget. They had tried to comfort the wretched and stunned survivors, at the same time hoping against hope they would find their own missing family members. Sil had done the same. Every time he glimpsed a tui in the distance, his heart had raced with the hope that it might be Pip. Every female tui flying through the bush reminded him of Bron. He was exhausted and numb.

  “Are we really going to keep going?” he asked.

  No one answered.

  “Mip would want me to,” Tor said eventually.

  “Pip, too,” said Bel.

  “If we stop now, it’s all been for nothing,” said Bek.

  “If Bron were here, she’d put the rest of you to shame,” said Bron’s mother. “She’d never give up!”

  Yes, that’s right, thought Sil with a stab of pain. He couldn’t believe he’d never hear her sassy voice again.

  They fell silent again until Jeb sat up taller on the branch. “We don’t have any option,” he said. “We can’t just sit around and wait to die. The magpies will be back to finish off the job. We have to get in first. We must keep up the pressure — we’ve already missed two nights.

  “Tor, you had a strategy when we last met. Each bird who still had some voice was to team up with a partner without. There are nine of us here. Who can still do the magpie cries?”

  Tor, Bek, Bel and Sil said they could. Jeb teamed them with other tuis, all but Bel.

  “Bel, you’ll have to handle the support but you must find another bird to partner with — the thrush might have a suggestion.”

  “I’ll work with Bel,” said Bron’s mother. “I’ll take Bron’s place.” Her voice quavered.

  The assault team discussed which houses they would target. They decided to tackle the middle of the valley where houses were concentrated. Each pair would handle three each, most of them with dogs. They would return to houses they’d targeted last time so they wouldn’t have to look them over in advance. Nobody said what they were all thinking — that nine houses wasn’t going to make much of an impact.

  Sil, Bel and Bek flew wearily back to their tree. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Pip were sitting there when they arrived home, thought Sil, but he wasn’t.

  They mended the nest as best they could, though Mem was the expert. Later, Bek flew down to fetch her and Roz, and they all returned safely. Small, cautious sounds began to replace the eerie silence as tuis came out of hiding and returned to their trees. Secretly, they hoped each sound or movement might be Pip returning. They were all sunk in their own thoughts and the rest of the day dragged by in silence. They seemed unable to help one another though everyone took turns to bring back food for Roz.

  Night came at last, filled with drifting cloud. It was a good night for being invi
sible. Sil felt frightened to be venturing abroad. Surely the magpies would be on the lookout for them. At least the tuis wouldn’t stand out in the moonlight. The nine birds gathered at Jeb’s tree again. Bel and Bron’s mother flew off to the puriri support tree by the pond and the others briefly discussed tactics. They had all been involved in the first round of the campaign and knew the ropes.

  “No heroics,” said Jeb firmly. “Any sign of trouble, get out! I’ll be around, watching. Listen for alarm calls. Just remember, we’re better than magpies at gaining height fast. That’s probably our best escape route. And watch out for your buddy. Good luck to you all, I’ll see you back in the puriri tree.”

  Sil’s partner was a friend of Bel’s called Fru. He wished she were a male tui. Would she be any good in a tight spot? he wondered.

  Things went according to plan, however. The birds flew off to their first targets. Once again, lights came on, doors were flung open, small humans cried, dogs barked and howled and humans shouted. Sil flew back to join Fru in the tree.

  “That’s one down,” he said grimly.

  “Shhh,” whispered Fru. “Something about that big gum isn’t right.”

  Sil looked hard. “It’s a fair way off. Are you sure you’re not imagining things?”

  “Maybe, but there’s something funny about the branches.”

  “It’s not near any of our houses,” said Sil, “so does it matter?”

  “It’ll be close to somebody’s.”

  “Well, our next house is in that direction. Let’s fly on and have a look.”

  The next house had a light on near the roof. They perched in a cherry tree on the front lawn. Sil looked at the gum tree again but couldn’t see anything odd.

  “All clear,” said Fru quietly, “when you’re ready.”

  Just then, harsh magpie cries broke out further up the hill.

  “Gosh that’s effective,” said Sil admiringly. “I wonder who’s doing it.”

  The din intensified. Lights came on all around them. Fru sat up taller.

  “What am I hearing?” she said in a high voice. “Oh, what am I hearing?”

  Then Sil heard it too — a long, desperate, warning call from a tui. No mistaking it. His skin goose-pimpled. What on earth was going on?

  “Quickly,” he gasped. “We have to get up there!”

  Flying up, they were joined by Tor and his partner. The gum tree loomed, and dropping from its branches were the dreaded black-and-white shapes.

  Where’s Bek, thought Sil, but next thing he was under attack. The air was filled with flashes of white, loudly beating wings, thrusting beaks and ear-splitting shrieks. Bodies collided, claws raked, feathers flew. The tuis were greatly outnumbered. A large magpie swooped on Sil. At the last possible moment he rolled to one side. The magpie pulled up and came after him again. Sil climbed through the feathers and the fury, leaving the magpie behind. He kept on climbing. He wished he could fly up and up above the din and the danger and not return. I could go for help, he tried to convince himself — but there was no help to be had. All the tuis were right there below him, fighting an impossible fight.

  He saw Tor dive and climb, weaving in and out of the tumult of bodies. Fru collided with a large magpie, recovered and dived away. “Don’t dive, climb!” Sil screamed as the magpie dived after her. He laid his wings against his body and hurtled down. Faster, faster until crash! He knocked the magpie off course. Lights danced in his head and he struggled for breath. A terrifying screech sounded just above him and another magpie loomed. There was no time to dodge. Huge wings flapped powerfully in his face. He felt a sickening pain in his shoulder and everything went black.

  Sil seemed to be falling into the sky and the trees were growing upside down. His wings hardly worked. He couldn’t avoid the bush rushing at him. He crashed into its dense twigs and stopped abruptly. The pain in his shoulder was intense.

  It was quieter inside the bush but Sil could hear the fight still raging above his head. He tried to edge out to see what was happening but the pain stopped him. He pushed himself on in spite of it. The bush was close to a house. Above it, through gaps in the clouds, he could see the wheeling, screaming birds, but it was almost impossible to distinguish tuis from magpies. Who was winning? Who else had been hurt? Even killed? He could see no bodies on the ground.

  The windows of several houses were alight. Doors slammed. Suddenly the door of the nearest house burst open and two men appeared, one holding a smooth, straight branch. He pointed it upwards. “I am utterly fed up with those magpies! This has gone on too long!”

  They stared up into the cloudy sky.

  “There are tuis up there as well,” Sil heard one say. “They’re having a ding-dong scrap! Those magpies are vicious — the tuis will come off second-best.”

  “It’s extraordinary! I’ve never seen anything like it. And the noise!”

  “Just be careful what you shoot.”

  “Oh, I’ll just fire over their heads.” He pointed the branch again. It made a tremendous bang. Sil jumped. That must be a gun. He’d heard about them from Pip. He knew they were terribly dangerous.

  The birds flew apart as though something had exploded in their midst, and from higher up a black and white body fell, tumbling, to hit the ground with a loud thud.

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” said the man. “It must have been well above the fight. I’m glad I didn’t hit a tui.”

  “Well, it’s done the trick. You’ve sent the lot packing, minus one magpie. They’re big birds, aren’t they? Maybe we can get some sleep now.”

  “We’ll have to do something permanent about those magpies,” said the man with the gun. “They’ve become a real nuisance this summer — even attacked a couple of kids in the park. And the last few nights they’ve been making a terrible racket into the early hours. Disturbed everyone. I can’t understand it, they’re not night birds as a rule. Nor are tuis,” he added. “What are they doing round here at this hour?”

  The men went back inside.

  It was hard to believe that only seconds before there had been pandemonium. Not a single bird could be seen or heard now — except for the magpie, lying motionless in the light from a window. He was very big indeed — the biggest magpie Sil had seen. He looked dead.

  Sil was conscious of the throbbing in his shoulder. He explored cautiously with his beak. There was a sticky patch on his wing. The magpie must have stabbed him and the wound had bled. Two beak stabbings and two wasp stings in one summer. Roll on winter!

  He wouldn’t be able to fly home that night. He should be safe enough in the tree — its dense foliage should deter cats and possums. Would anyone come looking for him, he wondered. If they’d seen him fall, they might think he was dead. Who would return to a house with a gun to look for him? Maybe he was on his own. That didn’t feel too good.

  Sil was hungry and thirsty. There was nothing to eat in the bush. His shoulder ached. At least he wasn’t lying on the ground. But what would happen next? Would they need to keep up the campaign? Did they have the numbers to do it? He wondered who else had been hurt in the fight, whether the magpies would attack again? He missed Pip and Bron.

  Finally sleep rescued him from the torment.

  Sil awoke in the dark but knew the lightening wasn’t far off. He could hear tiny rustlings around him. Then he heard a low tui call. Who could that be? Nobody lived around here. He sat very still. The soft call came again, close by: “Sil, Sil.”

  He sent out his own low call and watched intently. He could just make out the trees around him. He sensed rather than saw a movement in a nearby tree. He called again softly. His own bush shook and rustled as a bird landed. “Sil?” It was Tor.

  You’ve come to my rescue again, thought Sil. “I’m over here, Tor, and I sure am pleased to see you.”

  “Me too,” said Tor. “We saw you fall. We didn’t know if you were still alive. Everyone got back except you.” He hopped down to Sil. “You’re hurt. Do I need to fetch the gulls?�
��

  “I think I’ll be able to fly later,” replied Sil, “but I need something to eat and drink first.”

  “No problem. The sun’s just coming up and that’ll bring the insects.” Tor looked out through the leaves. “I’ll …” He stopped short. “Is that thing dead?” he whispered. “He’s huge!”

  “The human killed him with a gun,” replied Sil. “He didn’t mean to, he aimed above the fight. I saw him fall. He hasn’t moved at all.”

  Tor looked thoughtful. “They say the leader always stays above a fight. That’s who he must have been.”

  He flew away and returned several times with food, until Sil had eaten enough.

  “Can you fly as far as the pond?” he asked. “You need to drink.”

  “I think so. Then I can wait in the hideout and fly home later in the day.” He explained where the hideout was.

  “Ha!” exclaimed Tor. “So that’s where you disappear to! I’ve often wondered. I’ve even followed you, but you never led me to it.” He grinned. “So now I get to see it.”

  The two birds took it slowly, resting often. Sil was in a lot of pain. There wasn’t a magpie to be seen. They reached the pond and drank deeply.

  VIII

  After the explosion and the terrifying sight of the big bird falling, they flew back to the berry tree. In their usual way they sat apart from one another, not talking.

  They knew the lightening was not far away and, although they had never been allowed to stay in the tree that late, they had no idea what to do. The big bird had always had a plan for each day, but the big bird was not there.

  Afraid even to search for food without his permission, they perched on, unable to decide or do anything, fearful, uncertain and increasingly hungry.

  As dawn silvered up the sky, they heard the singing-in in the distance. Normally they attacked nests now because the males were absent. But no one gave the order, so they stayed where they were.