SHORT STORIES FOR CHILDREN

BIRD-WATCHER

"T I'm not going to school, I hate it!" screamed Cyril and, ran out of the house. His mother, Mrs. Fischer, was helpless. When Cyril was younger she would cajole him and sometimes even force him to go to school. But now Cyril was a wilful eleven-year-old, and disliked being in a classroom. His father scolded him often and his mother pleaded with him, but Cyril continued to stay away from school. Today, Cyril's parents were quite embarrassed as he had created a scene in the presence of Dr. Gopal Rao, who was staying with them. Dr. Rao had come to New Zealand all the way from India. "I'm sorry, Dr. Rao," Mrs. Fischer said sadly, "Cyril is so fond of climbing trees and peeking into birds' nests that he just doesn't want to go to school." "Ah, I understand," said Dr. Rao, smiling. In the evening, while Mr. Fischer was still at work and Mrs. Fischer was busy in the kitchen, Dr. Rao and Cyril had tea together. "Cyril, I heard you're fond of birds," Dr. Rao said, biting into a piece of delicious cake specially baked for him by Mrs. Fischer. Cyril blushed. "Do you know, I too love birds and hated going to school when I was your age," Dr. Rao continued. Cyril was startled. He couldn't believe that an old man like Dr. Rao could ever have liked peeking into birds' nests. But, as Dr. Rao narrated his childhood adventures Cyril's disbelief turned to admiration. More impressed was he when he learnt that Dr. Rao had been specially invited to New Zealand to lecture on birds. After tea, Dr. Gopal Rao took Cyril to his room and showed him several books on birds. Cyril gazed at the beautiful pictures, for a long time. Suddenly he let out a cry, "Oh, I've seen this bird." "Impossible," said Dr. Rao. "These books show rare birds and you can't see any of them here." But Cyril was sure he had seen this bird, in fact a pair of them. "Uncle! I have really seen them. I have spotted their nest in a huge oak tree." Dr. Rao walked up to Cyril and glanced at the book he was holding. Then, once again, he shook his head and said, "I'm sure you are making a mistake, Cyril. The black robin of Chathas Island is one of the rarest birds. You couldn't have seen any of them here." Cyril insisted that he had not made any mistake. Rare or ordinary he had definitely seen two of them. "In that case, can you show them to me?" asked Dr. Rao. "Yes, right now, if you want to." Dr. Rao hastily put on his coat, pulled out a pair of binoculars, and stepped out of the room. Cyril followed him. "Mama, Uncle and I are going to watch birds," Cyril shouted from the doorway. Mrs. Fischer was in the kitchen. She was so surprised that she dropped a spoon. By the time she picked it up and came out, the two had gone. Dr. Rao kept talking about rare birds as they walked up to the oak tree. As soon as they were near enough Cyril said excitedly, "There, that's the nest." Dr. Rao looked up and saw a small cup-shaped nest neatly tucked into a fork of the branches. Quickly he took his binoculars and peered at the nest through the lenses. "I hope your black robins haven't retired already," Dr. Rao said his eyes glued to the nest. Cyril, too, was trying to see if the black birds were there. It was getting dark and all the birds were returning to their nests. Suddenly Dr. Rao mumbled, "Ssh! Keep quiet. Here comes one." In the fading evening light Cyril saw a black bird prance round the nest. A while later, another hopped out of the nest. "See, didn't I tell you? There are two of them!" Cyril exclaimed. Dr. Rao silently watched the birds, until they went back to their nest. He looked thoughtful. "You're right, Cyril, but let's come again tomorrow morning." Aftei dinner Dr. Gopal Rao turned to Mrs. Fischer and said, "If it's okay with you, I'd like to take Cyril bird-watching again tomorrow morning". Mrs. Fischer was so startled, she dropped her napkin. The next day, Dr. Rao and Cyril woke up before dawn and walked to the oak tree. Cyril was happy because he had Dr. Rao's spare binoculars with him. Soon day broke and the birds began to twitter and stir out of their nests. The black birds came out too. Immediately Dr. Rao and Cyril focussed their binoculars on them. After a while Dr. Rao cried excitedly, "Hurrah, Cyril! They really are black robins. Now climb the tree quickly and look into the nest." Cyril climbed up. "Uncle, there are two eggs," he shouted from the tree-top. Dr. Rao beamed happily. He asked Cyril to climb several trees, peek into other nests and count the number of eggs in each of them. He noted Cyril's findings in his thick diary. After a few hours Dr. Rao heaved a sigh. "Hmm. That should be enough. Now we can go back." On the way back, they stopped at the village post office and spent an hour and a half sending telegrams to various places. Dr. Rao also made a long distance call. When they finally reached home it was noon and Mr. and Mrs. Fischer were anxiously waiting for them. It being the last day of Dr. Rao's stay, Mrs. Fischer had prepared a special lunch. She was upset because it was getting cold. Dr. Rao ate very little. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. 'Maybe, he's anxious about his journey,' Mrs. Fischer thought. As soon as Cyril finished his second helping of dessert Dr. Rao said, "Mrs. Fischer, I really hope you won't mind, but Cyril and I would like to continue our bird-watching." Mrs. Fischer nodded. "Cyril, you must help me save the birds," Dr. Rao said as soon as they stepped out of the house. "Save the birds?" "Yes. What you spotted were the Chathas Island black robins. Only five of them, three females and two males are known to be living. They are on Mangare Island, east of New Zealand. Left to themselves, the birds will die without multiplying and then there will be no more black robins on earth." "Will our black robins also die?" Cyril inquired anxiously. "No, we won't let them die. We'll save them." "But how?" "We'll steal their eggs and mingle them with the eggs in other birds' nests. The black robins will then lay a fresh set of eggs. So we can double the number of eggs every season." "Shall we steal the eggs now?" Cyril asked eagerly. "Yes. But we'll have to be extremely careful. It will be risky to use bare hands. Not only because the eggs are tiny and delicate but also because damp and dirty hands can transfer bacteria right into the eggs through their porous shells." Cyril listened with rapt attention. Dr. Rao had, in the meantime taken out several articles from his knapsack. He made Cyril wash his hands and dry them. Next, he gave him some kind of a spoon and a small container, both rinsed in a disinfectant. Finally, with the help of his thick diary, he showed Cyril two nests to which they could transfer the black robin's eggs. Cyril followed the instructions and gently placed an egg in each of the two warblers' nests. The two trees were marked. "Now we must pull down the black robin's nest," Dr. Rao said. Cyril was horrified. He couldn't believe his ears. Dr. Rao smiled gently and added, "The black robin will lay again only after building a new nest." Relieved Cyril smiled, and ran to the oak. In no time he was down with the tiny cup-shaped nest. "I'm going to keep this as a souvenir," he told Dr. Rao, who was busy packing his knapsack. On their way back Dr. Rao said, "I wish I could stay and see the family of the black bird grow. But I can't. Cyril, you'll have to do a lot to see this experiment through. Of course some of my friends will soon come and camp here. You'll help them, won't you?" "Yes," said Cyril. "I'll certainly help them save the black robins." "We've done enough for this season," Dr. Rao explained. "No doubt, they can lay eggs three or four more times. But we must not tire them out." "I get your point," Cyril replied. Back home Dr. Rao told Mr. and Mrs. Fischer the wonderful work Cyril was doing to preserve one of the rarest birds on earth. In the days that followed there were many more surprises for Mrs. Fischer. They started receiving letters from bird lovers all over the world. Experts on birds congratulated them on having a son like Cyril. The most pleasant surprise was when they saw Cyril's photograph splashed across the pages of a newspaper. A write-up said he had spotted two rare birds in his village, transferred their eggs and taken care of them. It went on to describe how Cyril had cleaned up the warbler's nests twice. This had become necessary as the droppings of the baby black robin did not fall out of the warbler's small pendant shaped nest. During cold spells there was danger of the baby black robin catching a chill and dying. A baby warbler does not face this danger as nature has given it faecal sacs which the parent warblers throw away. As a result of Cyril's efforts, the article concluded, there are now more black robins in the world. That night Mrs. Fischer found Cyril at his desk, studying. "Cyril!" she shouted, "you're studying geography?" "You needn't be surprised, Mama," Cyril replied. "If I don't study geography and don't go to school how can I become an expert on birds?" Mrs. Fischer was so pleasantly surprised that she just stood rooted to the spot.