CHAPTER 6
FLIGHT
At dawn, Blue noted that the forest songbirds were still frightened, silent, and in hiding. Without bird song to call forth the light, the great forest was eerily quiet, except for the shuffle and buzz of unhindered crawlers.
Stealthily, the fugitive blue jays and the brown creeper ate crawlers and seeds, and did a quick preening. When it was barely bright enough for them to clearly see the tree branches that crisscrossed potential flight paths, they prepared to fly north. Blue wrapped a vine snugly around Brownie's middle so that he could carry him upright and comfortably instead of upside down. This suited the little bird so well that he ‘peeped’ loudly in appreciation, drawing a silencing warning hiss from Blue.
Finally, they were underway. Bob flew in the lead acting as guide, followed by Blue and Brownie. Nod flew rear guard. They flew almost at ground level under even the small trees, hoping to avoid the prying eyes of crows roosting in the upper forest canopy.
Going was difficult from a flying standpoint and also risky from a discovery standpoint, for they had to focus primarily on dodging branches in order to make reasonable progress through the foliage, rather than on locating their enemies. Therefore for the most part they couldn't tell exactly what was ahead until they were already flying past it. They surprised many hushed, nervous, low-perching songbirds that were in hiding. It seemed likely that eventually they would similarly surprise some low searching blackbirds, but the jays could think of no better strategy to travel unnoticed.
After working their way tediously through the trees for several hours, with the sounds of searching blackbirds constantly above them, their luck finally ran out. They abruptly burst into a small clearing and found themselves flying just over the heads of dozens of crows walking in a wing-to-wing line on the ground.
The startled crows cawed in surprise, and then the chase was on. Dodging through the trees, the nimbler jays had no problem evading the clumsy blackbirds, but all the searchers in area treetops had now been alerted, and gathered above them in even greater numbers.
Most disturbing, in addition to hearing the caw-caws of the crows, they heard the chuck-chucks and cack-cacks of gathering grackles. Escape from the nimble grackles would be much more difficult. Fortunately, these blackbirds were more prone to song than the more taciturn crows, though their course voices were scarcely musical. Their nearly constant singing was extremely useful to the fleeing jays, who dodged any that approached them on their level before they even came into sight.
The grackles were flying complex search patterns however, and at one point were converging on the jays at all levels of the forest, with no escape route evident. "Cack-cack, cack-cack," sang Blue, in uncanny imitation of the grackles, startling even his companions. Unlike most bird messages, this one did not designate individual or flock identity, as grackles had such a loosely knit society that such information typically had no meaning. Through sub-frequencies Blue sang in perfect grackle fashion simply what he had heard the grackles saying, that the fugitives were not to be seen where he flew. As Blue hoped, the approaching grackles didn't notice the addition to their group, but actually turned to avoid the jays, thinking that the area where they heard Blue’s message coming from was already covered. It had been a close call.
After another hour of intense flying the jays at last heard no more crows or grackles. They continued on at low level for yet another hour however, before finally resting for a short time. Blue was tiring from carrying the creeper. For the next leg Bob carried the little brown bird while Nod led, and at Blues’ direction they flew more easily through the upper canopy, though they still avoided flight in totally open areas where they could be seen from afar.
At last they found themselves flying in woods where the daily activities of the local birds were normal and blackbirds were more scarce. They sang greetings to the local jays they encountered and warned them that flocks of crows and grackles were at large, but only stopped to rest, feed for brief periods, and exchange Brownie. Because he was much stronger, Blue took turns carrying the creeper that were twice as long as those of Bob and Nod.
That evening the exhausted group found a thick patch of berry bushes were they fed modestly and slept soundly until morning, when they were pleased to hear songbirds singing in the dawn normally. They heard no crows or grackles at all, but of course those birds were normally widely dispersed in the deep forest. There still could be lesser numbers of searching blackbirds in the area. Overall though, these were relatively cheerful surroundings.
Blue did not feel cheered. The joyful songbird singing reminded him again of Song Flame, and of Song Flame’s death. While fleeing on the previous day he had been too busy to think of it very much. It was a wilt-feathered Blue that approached the brown creeper with the vine, and stated his intent to again carry him.
This time the little bird protested. “Brownie fly, Brownie fly,” he sang. “Blue tired.” True, the plucky little bird looked much better today, especially after preening, but he was still wobbly on his feet. He would be just as wobbly on the wing, Blue judged.
Blue didn’t know exactly what the tiny bird had gone through with Song Flame, but it must have been horrific. Now Song Flame was dead, thought Blue, gloomily. Song Flame, his best friend and mentor, would never sing again.
“Blue not eat,” observed the stubborn little bird. “Blue not preen. Blue have loss shock, like Brownie.”
“It’s true, you did not eat much at all yesterday, Blue, and nothing this morning,” agreed Nod, who looked over his big companion carefully. “Nor did you preen today at all. I had not thought on it, but I think the creeper may be right. You have shock of loss.”
“I didn’t eat or preen?” sang Blue, in surprise. Was that true? Shock? Normally a bird ate and preened automatically. With loss of a mate, parent, sibling, or close flock-friend, a bird sometimes fell into an unhealthy stupor that could last for weeks, occasionally resulting in death. Death was sometimes from direct starvation, but more often from predators that sensed weakness and carelessness.
“Aye flock leader,” agreed Bob. “You think now of losing your friend, is this not true?”
Blue shook his head. “Yes. But is it loss shock? I don’t know.” He had suffered shock when he was a youngster, from loss of his mother to a falcon. He hadn't eaten in days before his also grieving father noticed and intervened. The intervention strategy was an unusual one; Strike True introduced Blue to Song Flame. Blue was so intrigued by the old cardinal's odd song that he was soon again eating and preening without even noticing his own recovery. Song Flame had saved his life.
“You wouldn’t know,” said Nod. “Shock brings a haze that covers clear thought. We two were in its grip ourselves not long ago, after losing our unborn chicks, so we understand it all too well. Scar persuaded us to do our duty to flock and to fight our foes; that is what saved us from its grasp. We need you now to do the same, flock leader Blue Dawn.”
“I do my duty,” protested Blue. Many seasons ago after recovering from his earlier bout of shock loss, he had pledged to himself never again to give in to fear or despair. He was stronger than that. He was a jay and son to Strike True, the greatest jay flock leader of the North Forest.
“Of course. But do you remember eating or preening this morning?”
“No. But we’re all very tired.”
“We’re all tired, but you are more than tired. The rest of us ate and preened on waking, even the creeper. We did not note it at the time, but it is true, you have barely eaten or preened since we joined you.”
Blue craned his neck and looked himself over. They were right, he looked a mess, though appearance was the least of it. Preening was necessary for good flight and protection from the elements. “I will preen now.” He began to run his beak through his feathers.
“And eat,” said Bob.
“I don’t feel like eating.”
“We said the same thing, when we lost our young ones, and were in shock,” sang Nod.
“Flock leader, we all have need of your great strength and wisdom. You must eat.”
“Then I will eat,” agreed Blue at last. After preening, the sad jay forced himself to eat berries and crawlers. He felt more energized after eating, as he again approached the creeper with the vine. “Today you ride again, small wise one. Tomorrow, perhaps you will fly with your own wings. Today we will not fly as hard as yesterday. We can’t afford to wear ourselves out. We have perhaps four more days of flying to reach the Council.”
The other jays nodded in agreement. Contrary to their frequent boastful claims, jays weren’t high souring, swift, long distance flyers. They were average flyers at best and trained vigorously to enhance flight agility, speed, and endurance. When migrating they generally flew less than fifty kilometers a day, resting and eating frequently as they went. Also, this wasn’t yet migration season, so they hadn’t fattened themselves up in preparation, or worked themselves up for it psychologically. In this regard Blue had a slight advantage over Bob and Nod, since for several weeks he had been flying through the forest looking for Song Flame, and except for his state of shock, was well conditioned physically and mentally for travel.
Blue sometimes covered significant distances by flying at night as high above the trees as he could reach, above the night-hunting owls. But neither he nor his flock-mates could carry Brownie high enough to completely avoid raptor or blackbird notice, and four birds flying at more moderate altitudes at night would be far too conspicuous. They had to continue traveling in the daytime at modest altitudes.
Blue was glad to be underway again, to push swiftly through the thick damp air, keeping busy such that again he had little time to dwell upon the death of his friend. Today they flew at treetop level, and even though they were flying at a much more leisurely pace and took longer rests, they still covered as much distance as they had the day before, due to less tree dodging and back-tracking to avoid clearings.
At dusk however, as they fed near the base of an old oak tree, they were dismayed to see approaching high overhead a huge flock consisting of thousands of dark colored birds of two distinct sizes, flying swiftly north. They were flying at perhaps a thousand meters above tree level, too high in the waning light to immediately make out what type of bird they were.
As they watched, several dozen of the birds trickled away from the main flock, dropping down to roost in nearby forest trees, cawing and cackling. There could be no doubt; they were both crows and grackles.
Hawks could also be seen soaring both above and below the main flock, but the jays couldn't tell if they intended to attack the blackbird entourage, or simply following it. "They are doing both," concluded Blue, after the main flock was almost out of sight. "They hunt down stragglers, but otherwise do not attack the flock." Indeed, as he sang this they could see stragglers being knocked out of the sky by the swifter raptors, but otherwise there were no attacks.
"Yes," agreed Nod. "They could also very easily strike at the main flock from above. As they do not do so, perhaps the raptors have some agreement with the blackbirds."
"Or perhaps the raptors have an agreement among themselves as to strategy," reasoned Blue. "Their aim may be to merely stress the flock by following it, causing more stragglers that are then easily taken."
Either explanation was not a comforting one. Raptors were flocking. Powerful prey birds of many sizes and colors could be seen, many dozens of them. The flocking of predator birds to attack others was nearly as disturbing as the other things that the jays were questing to the Council to report. The Balance hinged on the fact that the swift, powerful predator birds tended to act as individuals, pairs, or at most very small groups, and could therefore be countered through the coordinated efforts of smaller birds, led by the jays.
"This raptor behavior must also be reported to Council, if we reach Council," remarked Bob.
"WHEN we reach Council," countered Blue. "Rest now; tomorrow we fly low again, and to the east."
"But the Council is north," said Nod in surprise.
"Yes, but so also is the main blackbird flock," explained Blue. "We will try to go around it. It will require that we fly further, but we will make better time and with greater safety."
The next morning Blue again consciously fed and preened, while carefully being watched by his companions as though he were a hatchling. Then they flew very low, slow, and cautiously east, concerned at first more with stealth than with speed. Now that they were out of the area that Bob and Nod were familiar with, it was much more difficult to determine a route devoid of clearings that featured a lower canopy to provide cover.
Though twice they enlisted the help of local jays to guide them, progress was slow on this third day. Scattered crows and grackles forced them to be constantly alert. Often they encountered clearings or areas with only an upper canopy where they had to back-track and try different routes. By mid-afternoon they were again weary, and there still seemed to be no end to the watching blackbirds.
"Cack-cack," cried a grackle in sudden alarm as it flew around a bush and almost collided with Blue. Blue sang nothing in return, but swept around quickly to attack the grackle before it could fully react. One quick blow to its head from Blue and the stunned grackle fell limp to the forest floor.
"Come," urged Blue, and they all continued on as swiftly as possible, as more crows and grackles converged noisily behind them. The startling incident may have actually helped them, for after a short time all the blackbirds seemed to be far behind them, still focusing on the area immediately surrounding the brief encounter. Blue decided to take advantage of the situation by gaining altitude when he saw and heard no more enemies, and they flew full-tilt at treetop level for the remainder of the afternoon. The creeper was carried much of the time, for even though he seemed to be fully recovered he tired more quickly than the jays.
So went the long day, the group flying east to evade the path that the blackbirds had seemed to take, and not north directly towards the Council. For several days after that, they would then move north.
When there was opportunity, Blue sang with Brownie, learning all that the small bird knew of human song and ways. It was odd song and information to know, Blue reflected, but not disturbing. Humans could evidently be friends to birds.
By dusk of the fourth day of their quest they were no more than half way to the Council, and were more exhausted than ever. In the near darkness they encountered a large body of water that discouraged further progress, and at last settled down for the night under a large bush at water's edge. They had not encountered the blackbirds again, but the forest was too quiet to suit Blue. Even here, far from the troubled Far South Forest, things were not right.
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