Edwina and the children visit the island.

Later the next morning Edwina appeared followed by two humans. One was short and blond with dark eyes. He might have been four years old -- just the same age as Cawlin, but older than many other sensible birds. The other was tall and thin with brown hair and green eyes speckled with gold. Their skin was golden brown from the sun. It is a nice shade that can be reached by some of their kind. The colour reminds me of ducklings, but, of course, the ducklings are so much cuter than any human could ever aspire to be. They both looked excitedly around. Edwina Cleverbrain immediately found the secret rooms that I had hidden so carefully behind vegetation, and started eating her way around. It was still very hot outside, and the tall grass and the presence of the water provided just the right amount of coolness for a goat to be at its most comfortable. The children stepped about. I felt like the featherless creatures would when cows enter their houses, but then I remembered I promised Mother Cleverbrain to be kind.

In my deep philosophical mind a parallel appeared. Humans still sing songs and have poems with cows, and have books that make cow noises for their children, but I see very few of the creatures about. Note that they even have ducks in some of their songs. I don't like to mention it because we are mostly misrepresented as brainless, fat creatures that make strange noises I would not even recognize. Our only abilities they say are to swim and eat. Nowadays, most domestic animals are locked up, and can no longer stampede through people's houses. Those joys are long gone. Humans have also destroyed the habitats of the wild-life so that they can eat almost all the food they produce. Then when there is nothing left to do, they lock themselves up, too. One sees very few humans on the loose. These two are the exception, not the norm.

Mother Cleverbrain thinks the love for shinny things, which crows also have, is at the bottom of this. Humans spend their days walking about with shinny, mirror-like objects in their hand and stare at them all day long. I now start to understand Cleverbrain's worries. The only birds that do nothing are the ones that are dead. People want to have nothing to do so that they spend all their time with their shinny things. This means that they want everything around them to be dead or close to dead. Strangely enough this extends even to their own species. They want no children to worry about so that even they become close to dead since without the little ones there is no future only a past. They use a combination of poisons, rocks and plastics to achieve such almost dead states in their yards, on their streets, in their houses, and in their garden and fields. Their house are not cool like the rooms on my island. They are surrounded by some black stuff, which they call asphalt, and by concrete, which is a white rock-like material. When it's warm outside, these heat up to become very hot warming everything around them like a fire would, which we, animals, are so afraid of. Then the humans complain they are too hot, which makes so little sense. But then little makes sense when you do nothing.

While I was analyzing the future of the world, the children built a dam. They pulled two very large, heavy branches together in the middle of the river and surrounded them with rocks and sand. Then they pulled plants out from the shores of the island and planted them in their dam. It's quite effective, and it looks natural. They'd make good beavers. One big snake has stopped and is looking to make a home there. Some of the fish swim to the dam to take a look. Some turn around, but some go into the dam. It could be quite a nice place to sit by and wait for tasty treats.

Now they are sitting on the rocky beach. They tie pieces of wood together with short, black wire to make toy boats. I wonder if they could tie up my floating nest to make it solid enough for the trip. Their boats don't float very well. They probably did not get the balance right.

Cawlin is looking at them carefully. He picks long pieces of though grass and repeats the tying process he just observed the children do. The bigger boy points at Cawlin and laughs. The other one makes some strange squeky sounds. They must be human speach. Cawlin tells me they said they aknowledge his buildings skills, and are proud to able to teach him something. They are still trying to clear the two chimneys from their house of crow nests. The nests are inside the chimneys and too strong to be broken entirely. Such skills if the material was watertight could help us build a small raft to carry Athena and some of her freshly dried dead mice.

Edwina has increased my room tenfold. It used to have had a subtle entrance that fooled predators. Now, I might as well leave it to her. Five goats could fit in there without effort.

I walk through the clear water of the Bega and step slightly closer to the children. One points at my foot and starts singing. He is clearly tonedeaf. What he says I cannot tell. But Cawlin is translating for me.

Tall tonedeaf human:
"Narcissus you are there
We see you very well
But quite exactly where
We just cannot tell.

When we try to pat your bill
The water is all we touch
Even though you are sitting still
Of you there isn’t much.

Your foot in the water looks broken
Is the water pressure so strong?
You look perfect in the open
Have we got your perfection all wrong?

Your foot seems too thick or too thin
It seems to be closer or further than it is
Did you hurt it when stepping in?
Are you really perfect or are you a wiz?

I look straight from the top and well
Your foot does not appear to be bent
I look from this side and now can tell
It depends on the ray that’s incident.

The bottom of the stream does seem
To be closer than it actually is
I rub my eyes is this a dream
Not sure I’m seeing what I see.

What is actually bending is the light
The word used for it is refraction
Depending on the line of sight
The amount of bend is some fraction."

A croak is heard from behind. Someting continues the song in an old, croaky voice.

Mother Cleverbrain:
"There is Snell’s now famous law
The refractive index is equal to sini/sinr
Explains some of the strange things you saw
Like things looking near when actually far.

A Mirage is an optical illusion
Taking refractions to an extreme
There must be a very good reason
Why things are just not what they seem

When something is not what it seems
Look at it with a critical eye
You will make sense of this
When you understand critical i.

Cawlin: "Mother!"

Mother Cleverbrain: "It's nice to see you, too, Cawlin. I am glad you are each learning something. You will need to understand diffraction if you travel by ship. You know we've had long conversation on mirrages and how to avoid being tricked by them in the past."

Mike -- the shrike

I spy Mike when hunting for insects, and I immediately called Athena and Cawlin so that we'd all hear Mike out. I signaled Penelope and Philip to stay away since I've witnessed shrikes eating sparrows before and I did not want Mike to find an easy meal after our conversation. When you want to know what happened in a criminal investigation you listen and ask questions that don't bias the subject. A shrike is a very proud bird. So, it was easy to get him into an almost-one-sided conversation.

"I’m Mike a shrike a Lanidae
From the “butcher” family
Making use of thorns and barbs
For storing my protein and carbs
I’m a red-backed shrike
And that is my way
Using any kind of spike
To impale my prey"

Me: "Wow! That's an amazing feat! Do you work alone or in groups?

A group of us is called an abattoir
A slaughter house in other words
The name is certainly not bizarre
Given the character of us birds.

Cawlin: "Can you eat poisonous bugs as well?"

Mike:
"My Florida cousin a loggerhead shrike
In insect hearts, causes terror to strike
Even lubberhead grasshopper are not spared
They maybe poisonous but he is not scared
Impaled, and left to bake in the sun
Returning when the cooking is done
Poison rendered harmless by heat
He comes back to retrieve his treat.

Me: Do you train a lot before you master your skill?

Mike:
A Juvenile shrike will hone its skill
Before it is quite ready to kill
Impaled leaves you might see
On the branches of a tree"

Me: We want to reach India. I hear you fly to accross the globe every year. What route do you take?

Mike:
"Through Greece and Egypt to Africa I fly
I do not see how I can help but I will try.

Cawlin: can you give us any advice?

Plan stopping points for refueling
A must for a journey most grueling.

In the fall stopping in Eilat Israel
With insects a-plenty we eat well
We get fat so as to survive
Crossing the Sahara and Sinai.

Athena: How was Icarus trapped?

Mike:
A falcolner’s diabolical ploy
Is to use us as the decoy
Tied to a stick, shields stuck on our eyes
They wave us in the air
An unsuspecting falcoln then flies
Into a sail shaped snare.
If a shrike or falcoln dies
They wouldn’t even care.

I was trapped on the stick
When Icarus was captured
It was a dirty trick
I escaped from the bastard!"

Mike continued:
Me trapped on the stick
and Icarus caught in the snare
It was such a dirty trick
mais j'ai échappé au barbare
Switching to French to show
How well traveled I am
I am letting you know
what I say is no sham

Athena:
A Shrike is a wannabe falcoln
That does not have any talon
The thorns and barbs are what it's got
To take the place of talons it has not
Cawlin of course you are a polyglot
Who can also read underlying thought
While Mike is saying
He had escaped the captor
What he is conveying
Is for a wannabe raptor
To be used as game
For Icarus’s snaring.
Is such a shame
He is just rearing
to launch an all out attack
and help bring him back.

Me: Well... at least we know what happened. We are not taking the same route as Mike, though. I am crossing no desert. I like water and my own life too much.

Mike: If you want to rescue Icarus, you'd have to get to the desert. The idea is to meet by the port at the sea, and spend as little time in the desert as possible, and even then, we'd shelter from the strong sun.
Me: Where could Icarus be?
Mike: I don't know. Mother Cleverbrain told him to talk to crows along the way and to all birds and creatures he might meet. They would send word of his whereabouts.

Cawlin asks Cherub for advice

As I landed on the lower branch of the tree where Cherub was, I remembered Mother’s crowverb (Crow proverb)
“A falcoln with a full stomac might not be a friend, but a hungry falcoln is an enemy.
They might not be a friend
But they might condescend
When their stomac is full
To try to be helpful"
I could feel Cherub’s piercing gaze. So, I knew I had to act fast.

Cawlin: “My friend left you some food"

Cherub:
“I devoured it with my brood
We sleep after we feed
What is it you need?”

As she swooped to my side
I was scared on the inside

Cawlin:
“My friends and I will travel far
What is it we need to know?
You've been on a route that's similar
Before we get ready to go.
I might be able to free
Icarus during our journey.”

Cherub laughed out loud
“You sound so very proud
I have talons, speed, and a hooked beak
Of what great assets can you speak?
To take on a journey so immense
Does not seem to make much sense.”

Cawlin:
“I am smart I am clever
Can use a pulley and a lever
You can laugh and you can mock
But I can make tools and pick a lock
You may be strong, you may be active
But your dear Icaurus is now a captive.

Humans ignore me, this invisibility
Along with my own innate ability
Will help me get him free
Do not underestimate me.

Tell me about your migrations
The dangers from various nations
So that we can be well prepared
On my account I am not scared
But I do not live in a bubble
My friends are quite vulnerable.

Cawlin's plans seemed too far-fetched
For miles the seas and oceans stretched,
They couldn’t possibly go that way
This was not some child’s play.
Yet she knew for Icarus to be freed
She’d have to help Cawlin succeed.

When she spoke her voice was meek
“I’ll give you the information you seek
Planning a trip is now quite tough
Climate change has made it rough
As weather patterns change
It has affected our range.

Aided by a three plus foot wingspan
Managing a long non-stop flight, we can
We reach a 93-mile per hour speed
That is extremely powerful indeed.

A long migration I’ve perfected
Is across the Mediterranean Sea
This journey is also affected
By the scourge of falconry.

After miles of flying we reach the land
And nets are set across the sand
To entice us much food is dangled
In those nets we get entangled.
It was not in Africa that Icarus was caught
Falcons here was what poacher sought
That too right during the nesting season
And that’s the one and only reason
I’m raising our brood here all on my own
They should make it, they’re almost grown.

Mike the Shrike was who they used
To trick Icarus into the net
Mike the Shrike himself abused
Revenge is out to get.

Talk to him he will let you know
Where exactly you have to go
How to get there, what you need
I want my Icarus to be freed.

Talk to him he will let you know
Where exactly you have to go
When you plan your trip
You must have got a grip
On your weakness and your strength
Then assess each sub-journey’s length."

Athena's gift to Cherub

Back at the island I watched for the falcon. I could see her flying in circles. I also found Athena perched on the nearby willow tree. She was just ending her daylong sleep. I told her about Mother Cleverbrain's demands. She grumbily got up.

"Athena reluctantly brought
A big, fat juicy rat
That she had skillfully caught
For Cherub to pick at
As Cherub excitedly fed
Athena darkly brooded
That Cleverbrain
was a royal pain
She really never ought
To have the thought
A falcon should have its fill
Thanks to an owl's gifted skill
What was she all about
If ever word got out
Athena would be mocked
Become a laughing stock"

The way to India

Cawlin leaves me to be chewed up by the old crow saying "I'll eat some plums from further down, while you and Mother have your chat. I'll see you later at the island!"

Mother Cleverbrain steps along her grey-goat pedestal, and the goat comes closer. I feel dwarfed. Then the goat-crow mountain starts croaking some answers to my questions.

Mother Cleverbrain: "The easiest way to get to India as a bird would be to fly like the geese. They use air currents to propel themselves, and could easily get from here to the Danube today before the sun is down. Migrating ducks can fly just as fast. "

'Wait! what's a mi..grating bird?' asks Twistedfingers junior

"Birds who migrate spend the spring and summer here, and then fly across the globe in the fall until they reach the side with warm weather when it's winter here. They don't have a forever home like you and Twistedfingers do. So, Narcissus could fly to India if he was healthy and in good shape, which he is not" answers the old crow in a matter-of-fact tone.

I step back looking at my nicely preened feathers. I see nothing betraying weakness, but she is right. I could not fly that far.

Me: "I like your frankness, Mother, if I may call you so. While I have not been indulging in leftovers from humans recently, I have not flown much. Also, domestic birds pay with their freedom for their forever home. The forever home is more often than not a small prison slightly larger than the bird in which she lays all her eggs, which she is forced to produce in a year. At the end of the year she loses her life. Or if they are not egglayers, birds pay with the meat on their bones that's forced to grow as fast as possible. Instead of growing for a year, like you do, junior, you'd become as fat as your mother in a bit over a month. You'd live a short life that's optimized to produce as many eggs or as much meat as possible while using as little food as possible. You were lucky to be allowed to live with your mother. A productive farm would never have a chicken with one chick or leave chicken or ducklings with their mothers in the first place. Furthermore, even though it is known that bread and chips and the like make ducks (and other waterbirds) sick and too fat to fly, humans keep feeding the stuff to us. They also feed it to their own children, who develop plenty of problems of their own. Staying healthy and doing the right thing is a challenge for everyone."

I've replied defensively and ruffeled lots of feathers! Twistedfingers, who is otherwise a placid hen, now justifies her life choices like most females under attack.

Twistedfingers: "I am a respectable four year old hen, just a little on the chubby side. Junior is my first chick. I decided to have him when I heard them mention soup recepies when discussing my lovely self. Many humans have a single child, nowadays, and they don't have the hardship of having goats step on their toes. People also don't turn women who don't produce enough eggs or choose not to have children into soup when they get fat enough. If they did, most women would be soup. As it is the existence of junior saved my life only temporary. I happen to be owned by a family with a heart, but even they eat chicken soup at times, and sometimes they travel and leave us in the care of people who neglect us or give us away to strangers. So, who knows what next year will bring."

Mother Cleverbrain: "I was simply making a statement, Narcissus. And, yes, you can call me mother. All birds do. I am old and wise enough to be kind to everyone. Now, do you need any information or have you just come to lecture us, and judge Twistedfinger's weight?"

Me: "I am sorry for side-tracking the conversation. Please, tell me about getting to India."

Mother Cleverbrain: "Well, India is more than 7000 kilometers away. On a good strong, current a migratory bird can cover 100 kilometers in a hour. It's about as fast as the metal killers or cars as the humans call them can go. If they fly at that speed for 7 hours straight each day they could reach India in 10 days. However, keep in mind that currents have direction. They can help you go faster or slow you down. You also have to feel how the air rises when you fly. Flying is a bit like swimming: you can swim with or against the current, and you have to let the water lift you to swim. Cawlin, Penelope and Athena can fly at maybe 40 kilometers an hour, but we are not migratory birds. This means we fly to reach different feeding places and can cover maybe 60 kilometers in a day. So, let's assume you'll travel 60 kilometers each day. The Bega cannal is about 120 kilometers long, which means you could reach the Tisa river in two days. The distance you have to cover on the Tisa is some dozen kilometers, and so let's say it takes you half a day to reach the Danube. Then the Danube is long, and you go for maybe 1000 kilometers along it before you reach the Delta and then the Black Sea. This means you are looking at more than two weeks of travel. However, if you catch a ride on a truck it could be a day or two. From the Black Sea you'd have to hitchhike onto a big boat. It's too far otherwise. This is the route by water. Is that the way you plan to take?"

Me: "Yes, and, thank you,... you've lost me a bit."

Mother Cleverbrain: "I am a mother and I am glad when I can help my son or his friends. You thank me by doing what I say and by staying alive. To do so you must be aware of your strengths and your weaknesses. You are farsighted, Cawlin is clever with tools, Athena has wisdom and ability to handle the dark, and Penelope, Cawlin and Philip are survivors. All strengths have to be used correctly to compensate for your weaknesses. You, Narcissus, cannot live on a tree. Cawlin, Penelope, Philip and Athena cannot live in water for long. You must be aware of each other’s limitations in different environments. Cawlin will take care of you the best he can. He is a survivor, but you all have to help him and each other. Think about this. "

Me: "I will do as you ask, and thank you again, Mother Cleverbrain. I will come back tomorrow. It was nice to meet you, Edwina."

Mother Cleverbrain: "And, tomorrow, spend some time with the little human. Show him around your island. He'll learn some things from you and you'll learn some things from him. I want him to learn from different beings, different things. If he is raised right, he might be part of a better future. Although, I sometimes hold out little hope of such a future. However, it's our duty to keep trying. "

Edwina: "Nice to meet you, too! I might come along to see that island of yours. I hear it has some tasty grass. I could help you look after of the human kid for an afternoon. We have an uphill battle in teaching him right from wrong. His own father stares all day at a shinny screen and when he lifts his eyes he is annoyed at everything around him, and blames us. He says that goat curry and fried chicken are tasty. He'll likely think the same about fried duck. Of course, the father is American. This means he's never seen a cow up close, and likely wouldn't know one end of the cow from the other, but he thinks he needs cow meat to survive. He does not have the guts to kill us himself, and can definitely not kill a cow, or really eat goat. We are too tough for him! However, he likes to spread horror imagines around. Goat curry, indeed! I give him a good chase every time he wants to catch me, and last time he tried to put medicine down my throat, I sneezed, and it all went into his mouth instead. The faces he made!"

Caprioara who has not spoken before intervenes, "we should not speak ill of the little one's father. It's the world they live in. It often feels it's us against that world. Almost all people stare at the shinning phone things. The father did almost twist my neck the other day. It seems that after he spends all day sitting still, he needs to move, and does so by chasing us around, and by pulling us and pushing us as fast as he can. We give him a good chase, though."

Me: Any other advice mother? Anything else?

Mother Cleverbrain: "Before you leave, you should talk to other birds who have made this journey. Start with Cherub. She is no Cherub but she is a Cherug. That is a Saker Falcon (Falco Cherug)."

junior: "Wow! The falcon! I spent all summer hiding from her. Those claws! That beak! I tremble only when I think of it"

Mother Cleverbrain: "She lost her good friend Icarus last year. Icarus was grabbed by a Falconer and taken to the Middle East.

Narcissus: "I see..."

Mother Cleverbrain:"No, you don't. But in time, perhaps, you'll understand that birds must not forsake each other. Sakers are the national bird of three countries, yet they are endangered. Birds will not survive by their wits alone they will need buy in from humans. You will need to forge a bond with humans. You must find a way to show humans what beauty and talent we bring to the world. "

Me: "Where I can find Cherub?" I meekly ask.

Mother Cleverbrain:
“Like Athena, a nest she will never make
Someone’s old home she will gladly take
Search for an old stick nest in a tall tree
where lived a stork, or raven previously.
Ask Athena to provide a gift rat
Make sure it’s well fed and fat
Or else, what you had in mind
May not be what you will find
A hungry unknown raptor
May end up being a captor”

Twistedfingers: "Good luck!"

The interview is over. Mother Cleverbrain flies away from her pedestal on Edwina, and roosts on a chimney instead. As I look back at the old bird, she suddenly seems worried and already frail. The goat has stopped as if she is embarassed by this display of weakness. But Edwina is getting old too. I wonder if we'll find them back here if and when we return from India. I hope we do, because they are remarkable.

Edwina walks slowly to the little human, and sits near him as he plays in the sand.

"It's getting dark and I do not want him to be afraid" she explains.

Mother Cleverbrain

I tossed and turned all night. I asked myself all sorts of questions. Is it wise to leave yet? How long is the Bega? Which river does it spill into? What dangers will there be along the way? Should we fly? Should I swim behind the nest and will the rest of my team perch in it? Will the nest hold? Will it attract attention and be attacked?

At night I had this uneasy dream
That I was floating down a stream
Behind an odd and mismatched group
This incongruous most motley troupe
Two sparrows, an owl, and a crow
With corn, and rat carcasses in tow
In a nest that served as a boat
Non-swimmers to keep afloat

Then I realized that in all reality
This flouted the laws of buoyancy
With Four birds, corn, and dead rats that nest
Wouldn’t be a boat, but a submarine at best
An open one at that what a mess!
This plan we’d have to reassess!

In the morning, I told Cawlin I needed another day to make plans. Cawlin took a long look at my sleepless face and said "Let's chat with Mother Cleverbrain!". She's a legend among birds. Nobody knows her age because she is older than all of us. Mother Cleverbrain is good with numbers and loves grapes. After some thorough search, we found her in a clearing near a grapewine that ripes early and thus has grapes that are already very sweet. She was surrounded by her team of goats. Cawlin jumped on a brown goat to be on the same level as the old, wise crow before wispering "she perches on the goats to eat the bugs off them. The goats have even taken to using her last name. Those two are her favourites: Edwina and Caprioara. Edwina Cleverbrain is the grey goat with touches of white and brown in her coat, while Caprioara is the shinny brown that looks just like a hornless deer."

Edwina walked over almost stepping on me. I froze.

From above a croaky voice says "Hello, Narcissus! I've been waiting for your call. No need to worry over your toes. We've perfected this routine a long time ago. Cawlin, your wispers are loud enough for my deaf ears." Behind her a white hen with twisted toes, who had clearly been stepped upon by a goat, pecks at left-over grapes. She is followed by a tiny chick. They seem happy enough.

Cawlin answers meekly "How are you Mother? are you still worried over the fate of mankind?"

"Narcissus, I am in no mood for more loud whispers behind my back. Yes, I am really his mother. He gets his smarts from me. Do you think I would have left him to come alone all the way from India? As for my worry over humans, they spend all their time staring at some shinny objects in their hand. They call them phones. Of course, I am worried. Look at the man in the yard behind me. He is supposed to be talking to his child, and teaching him things like we birds do when we have chicks. Instead, he stares at the shinny thing, and the child plays alone. Yet they are together. Other humans are worse. They give phones to their babies. Then the children don't play and often don't talk. They just stare at the thing. This one plays and talks. The goats and I do our best to teach him to behave."

"His first food was goat poop. By now he's figured out it's better to eat plums and nettles.", Edwina helpfully pipes in.

"And grain. He can immitate all sorts of sounds just like you, Mother Cleverbrain." adds Twistiedfingers.

"Well... just like Cawlin, he has a smart mother who tries to understand the world, and I don't just mean me. His human mother recognizes our uses and lets us help instead of poisoning us like the rest of humanfolk. But enough about that. I hear you want to go back to India?"

By the Bega River: on the island

It's nightime. Something crash-lands in our shelter. It gets up and gleefully says: "Narcissus, I was expecting you'd be here". "Hi Athena!" I say trying to look unaffectedly cool. She startles me every time. After this interruption, what was left of the night passed peacfully for me, and busily for Athena. The next morning I found Athena grumbling that she did not have a place to roost on the island. I suggested the highest tree on the nearby shore, i.e., the one with the three woodpecker holes, and let her have a good days' sleep. I continued to inspect the river shore. Under some branches I spied an abandoned nest. It was floating. Cawlin saw it too. This is our raft he shouted, and proceeding to fill it with corn he had stolen from a nearby field and with a bunch of seemingly useless shinny objects. Athena had some mice she had caught and left to dry as supplies, while Penelope and Philip made a quick meal of the horse flies, mosquitoes, and other bugs that were gathering around us and by the dead mice. They report that horeflies are the juciest. I did not dream that I'd be travelling behind floating mice carcases, but Athena is a raptor after all and she needs food. And I won't be traveling at night. I need my beauty sleep.

A Hoopoe sings close to my island. I wake up thinking of the tasty water plants I had seen in the evening. I also want to catch some of those absentminded fish. Just accross the river there is a kingfisher. He hunts like lightning. I sit just below him, and try to catch some the fish he damaged, but did not manage to eat. The Bega offered carps, catfish and lampreys this morning. After fishing, I spent the day watching the dragon flies, and grasshopers flying about. I love a cruncy snack! Cawlin spent his time with a friendly magpie. The big-beaked creature (remember, never call your friends names) wants to convince her to come to India. She answers diplomatically "How exciting! I'll come some day ... when I am a bit older". Penelope and Philip are fascinated by blue tits and grate tits and watch them catch the crawly creatures that eat leaves. I like the egrets and storks better. They catch frogs, which are a big, tasty treat. Then there are the swallows who appear to dive in the water, but, gracefully, barely touch its surface. I wonder if it's to drink beak-fulls of water or to catch bugs or both.

A hawk circles above. I go in the little room I made among the willow trees. He pounces! I hear Athena scream. I have never heard Athena scream before and let me tell you it was not a scream of amazement. He rips the thick curtain of branches and gets in. I rip some of his wing feathers and Cawlin hits him with his powerful beak. What a fight! Just as suddenly as he appeared he leaves to look for other prey that is too startled to fight back.

We'll leave for the Danube at dawn...