Doveland (3 page)

And so, Hunter stood alone before the committee of leaders, waiting to hear his fate. After Skybird announced the sad news involving the death of Tawney, he spoke for the community in offering condolences to the family of his friend, Ghent. Skybird was
aware that when rules are broken, the leaders can better assess its strengths and weaknesses.

“Each member of the community is responsible for protecting his own family, and you must stay vigilant at all times.”

Hunter displayed a true sense of remorse, looking somewhat lifeless as he stood alone with his head humbly bowed. Skybird used his wisdom to bring the community together following this terrible tragedy.

“It is my judgment, Hunter, that further punishment would be no greater than the loss you have already suffered.”

Ghent was disappointed. He felt Hunter was responsible for his daughter's death, and should be ousted and exposed to the same fate! Although he did not agree with the judgment of Skybird, he remained silent and supported his leadership.

Hunter was released and returned to the nest that he and his mate were going to share. The memories of her plea for help would haunt him day and night. “Hunter, help me!” and then… visions of her dangling head.

As he sat motionless in his nest, another dove appeared and perched in the shadows of the branches behind him each day at the same time, waiting and watching over him.

Another day went by and whispers of the tragic event began to wane as daily activities resumed. Hunter could hear the conversation among the doves gathered around the ground center of the threshold. They spoke of their excitement about the new chicks that would soon be hatched. In another area, pigeons offered singing lessons, while male doves taught mating rituals. Still others had fun imitating bird calls coming from the other side of the river.

Hunter tried to overcome his grief by envisioning a different outcome… He would respond to Tawney's adventurous request by letting her know that his first responsibility as her mate was to protect her, and the two of them would return safely to their nest. Oh, if he had only followed the rules!

On the third day following the tragic death of his mate, Hunter quietly left his nest and returned to the south shore where the nightmare began. Looking toward the sky, he recaptured the memories of that fateful flight. Tawney's fearless smile as her free-spirited
wings folded in and out so gracefully, which brought great joy to him. But, she had found herself with a preserver who would not be capable of saving her life, he thought. He felt he could not return to the nest without her.

By late afternoon, another dove would discover Hunter's lifeless body being shuffled about by the waves against the shoreline. Hunter's father, Dove Roufous, was quickly summoned. Word spread that a dove may have drowned himself.

As the flock gathered around the south shore, a lone dove appeared in their midst ~ the one that had perched in the shadows of the branches, waiting and watching over him, his mother, Mulberry.

“Not my Hunter!” she cried.

The flock stood back as she ran toward Hunter, embracing him with open wings, and gently rubbing his wet feathers as she whispered. “Son, I want to tell you how sorry I am that you lost your mate, and that it wasn't your fault.”

Dove Roufous prepared a small furrow in the soil to bury his son, then glanced in Ghent's direction to share a moment of mutual compassion. As part of the burial ritual, Dove Roufous held the first stone to be dropped into the furrow, as was the custom. He felt he had abandoned his son in time of need, and was unable to release the pebble. Mulberry did not share her mate's belief that Hunter had shamed the family, but she forgave him by humbly removing the pebble from his beak, and dropping it into the furrow. Together, Dove Roufous and Mulberry sadly departed. The community completed the burial ritual by covering the grave with pebbles.

Meanwhile, Ghent approached Skybird and murmured respectfully.

“You knew this would happen, didn't you?”

“It wasn't the river that killed him, my friend.”

Following the tragic deaths of Hunter and Tawney, the birds turned their attention to the little snow white eggs that began to appear in the clutches. Soon-to-be parents took turns guarding the nests. There was little other activity among the doves during this special time.

Within two to three weeks, yellow fuzzy chicks began to break open their shells. Skybird and Lady Fern were summoned by Antwerp to witness the birth of their grandchildren, along with the family of Flanders. Antwerp and Ringdove watched their clutch closely to see their first young appear. A chick pecked her way out, and began to beg for food.

“I will call her Posie,” said Ringdove proudly as she huddled over her young and let her chick drink milk from her beak.

Antwerp hoped for a son and watched diligently as the second egg showed signs of crackling. The little chick pecked its way out of the shell making Antwerp quite honored to be a parent.

“My son will be called Clovis,” he announced, hoping his birth would make amends between him and his father. Skybird nodded with approval and remained nearby through mealtime.

Meanwhile the grouse families of Norder and Willow gathered at the ground nest of Duney and Heather to watch more cheepers emerge from the speckled eggs. The first son to hatch was named Homer. Later, the family would welcome Greyhen, Wabbler, Needles, and Wormwood. There was some feather drumming as five birds competed for space in the nest, and the parents were becoming a little overwhelmed and frustrated trying to feed them all. Soon, spats began to erupt between Duney and Heather regarding the newborns. Some chicks would be favored above others. Beginning with the first born, Heather picked on Homer.

“Look at those large feet! He must be from the chicken side of your family.” Homer looked down at his feet which didn't see much larger than Greyhen's. Then Duney complained.

“Your little Greyhen reminds me of a wild pheasant with all those tiny colored patches!”

“Why she's as beautiful as a peacock!” retorted Heather.

The grandparents returned to their homes as the new parents continued arguing. When Homer leaves his parent's clutch, he will survive his parent's quarreling, but not the substance of their conversations.

Up in the Rock Dove tree, new members of the family were being welcomed by Hawthorn and Tulip. Also perched nearby was the family of Laughing Dove. Rock Dove appeared and made amends with the family of Laughing Dove believing this was a special time for both families. He wanted to meet the newest members of his family tree. Tulip told her father that she had already named the first chick, Squeaker. She was concerned her father may make fun of the other cheeper, but Rock Dove adored the cute fellow with the little flat beak.

“Would you let me call him Puppyduck?” he asked, as he slightly touched the little fellow with the tip of his wing, bringing on a faint giggle.

“Yes, father, and thank you for wanting to name him,” she said with tears of joy.

Rock Dove also visited the new members of Dipper and Duchess: Little Dip and Hazy. These were the most joyous days for the community as it involved all the families.

But, soon their celebration would be halted by another attack that would fill the community with more fear and grief. Smokejack had arrived from across the river and quietly perched in the shadows of darkness above them, sharpening his talons in a tree in anticipation of his next meal. He waited for the right moment to seize his prey.

One of the chicks born to Dipper and Duchess was about to become the camp's next victim. Unsuspecting, Dipper left the nest prematurely to exchange places with Duchess, who was approaching the tree where her young were raising their heads in anticipation of being fed. Without warning, the hawk appeared with the familiar cackling sounds, “Kek-kek-kek,” as he made a sudden forward dash toward the nest. Duchess witnessed in horror as she watched the hawk pass over her nest and continue his flight back
across the river with Little Dip clutched in his talons. The community cringed in silence until the attacker left the campsite. Feeling much sadness over her loss, Duchess placed her wings over her remaining chick, Hazy, and wept.

Skybird visited the grieving family. He did not call a meeting because the camp had been cautioned many times about the danger of hawks hiding in the trees. Everyone throughout the camp knew they must remain alert at all times and be responsible for their own family. Standing guard over their young became a way of life, but their awareness would not keep the fearless hawks away.

Several days passed, and the yellow fuzz on the wings of Antwerp's baby chicks were replaced with shiny brown feathers. Clovis and his sister, Posie, began flexing their wings and bouncing around the nest. Clovis became curious about a white starry flower.

“Mother, why is there a flower on the side of our nest?”

“For good luck, son,” she answered, while anticipating the arrival of Antwerp from the woods.

Finally, Antwerp returned. It was Ringdove's turn to forage for food. Posie lay asleep while Antwerp gave Clovis flying lessons by gliding around the tree and back.

“Do it again, Papa!” said Clovis excitedly, flapping his wings up and down as he watched. It looked like so much fun. Smokejack was lurking from high above, looking for his next easy prey. When Antwerp leaped away from the nest a second time, the hawk dashed toward his prey with his usual attack call, “kek-kek-kek.” Clovis looked up and saw a gigantic monster lunging toward him and cringed with fright. Antwerp recognized the cackling sounds and rushed toward the nest just before the hawk arrived, redirecting its flight back out of the forest and across the river. Antwerp had been courageous in saving his son's life, and remained protectively on the side of the nest, trembling, fluttering.

And so, fear of their formidable predator was passed down to the next generation ~ something Clovis would never forget.

To pass the time, Homer began to play hide and seek with his siblings, Greyhen, Wabbler, Needles and Wormwood. Homer ran
around the trees on the ground until he found Greyhen. She giggled and helped him find the others.

Several weeks had already passed and many fledglings began to leave their nests. Clovis grew eager to begin a new life on his own. His soft brown plumage was dominated with dark brown outer wing coverts like that of his grandfather, Skybird. Antwerp watched anxiously as Clovis balanced on the side of the nest. Clovis soon caught the attention of a baby grouse on the ground.

“Don't be afraid, just flap your wings!”

“Okay, watch me!” he yelled daringly as he jumped out of the tree, paddling his little wings all the way to the ground. As soon as he landed, Clovis was anxious to make friends.

“What's your name?”

“Homer, from the family of Grouse Norder.”

“I'm Clovis, from the family tree of Skybird.”

Grouse are larger than the doves, and in contrast, their feathers cover their legs. Homer had glossy black plumage with a small lyre-shaped tail.

“Father says you tree nesters take longer to leave the nest,” remarked Homer sheepishly.

“Where's your home?”

“Over there,” replied Homer, directing his attention toward a medley of loose twigs, and scattered dried leaves on the ground. Parents sometimes shepherd their fledglings after they leave home.

“Homer!” yelled his father, Duney. “I told you to build a stronger nest, like your sister, Greyhen.”

“But I hate building nests!” grimaced Homer.

Greyhen smirked at her brother, as she stood proudly next to her deep nest, layered geometrically with leaves and moss between twigs and sticks.

“Okay, okay,” retorted Homer, then turning to Clovis. “It took her a long time to build that stupid looking thing!”

Clovis and Homer snickered and laughed, and from that day forward they became best friends. Clovis watched out for his sister, Posie, as she floated down from the nest. Posie had brown feathers and light markings around her neck like her mother, Ringdove. All
the fledglings became acquainted with each other. Also joining them were Squeaker and Hazy. In the distance, Rock Dove was swinging Puppyduck back and forth on a loop of woody vine. The little combs over Homer's eyes elevated with jealousy, wondering why such an ugly bird was getting so much attention. Soon Puppyduck joined them.

“I know, let's play a game!” he giggled.

“Let's play a game,” mocked Homer.

“Follow me and we'll explore the woods,” said Clovis as he barely leaped above the ground to lead them into the forest. With the birds following him in a single line, Clovis flew in and around trees and over shrubs, up and down and all around, and on the outskirts of the island, finally landing on the north side. This part of the island was open and grassy. A perfect place to play a game, thought Puppyduck. “I know, let's play hide and seek.” After going over the rules, which included no flying, Homer asked who wanted to be ‘it' first.

“Me! me!” insisted Puppyduck.

The birds quickly scattered to hide in the woods while Puppyduck looked toward the river before beginning his search. As he crept into the woods looking for them, Squeaker flew from a nearby bush and returned to base without being caught.

“No fair flying,” declared Puppyduck.

“I was only this high off the ground,” replied Squeaker as she fluttered her wings to demonstrate.

Puppyduck ignored his sister and started toward the woods again to find someone else.

“I see you!” he yelled at Posie, as she raced him to the shoreline.

“You saw who? You are supposed to call my name, so I'm safe!”

With Posie frowning, and Sqeaker pouting, Puppyduck walked toward the woods once again. The other fledglings had conspired to gather in one place, and rush toward the base together without being seen. Jumping up and down while cheering over their victory, made Puppyduck a very unhappy camper.