The Paradise Flycatcher Page 5

  ‘Something’s up,’ said Maitreya, halting his cycle alongside Alisha’s.

  She nodded. ‘Seems to be.’

  ‘What time did you reach Arjun’s place?’ asked Maitreya.

  ‘First thing in the morning, about seven-ish. I heard his mom firing the milkman for bringing the milk in late.’

  ‘That’s about the time I arrived at Chintu’s,’ said Maitreya. ‘I stopped at Mitalee’s gate actually. Kept an eye on Chintu’s place from there. Mitalee gave me company.’

  Alisha glared at Maitreya. ‘Told you, didn’t I? Not to Facebook her at night.’

  On the night Maitreya and Mitalee had been exchanging messages online, Mitalee’s mother had entered her room just as she had been shutting down her tablet. Mitalee had been punished for breaking the rules—grounded for the weekend.

  Maitreya hung his head. ‘I feel terrible about it,’ he sighed.

  ‘Mitalee’s lucky. She got off lightly this time. She’s been punished worse before.’ Alisha’s gaze softened. ‘There’s a bright side to all this, isn’t there? We are a team now. We’ll track down these dirty squirrel-nappers and get Snowdrop back!’

  The bonding of Maitreya and the girls was the heartening result of the late-night chat. The three had united behind the common cause of rescuing Snowdrop. At school, they had decided upon shadowing Chintu’s and Arjun’s every move. Their reasoning was that if the boys had locked Snowdrop in a cage somewhere, they would have to feed him. There was every possibility then that pursuing the boys, watching their every movement, could lead them to Snowdrop. They had stalked the boys after school the previous evening, but nothing had come out of it. Since it was the weekend, they had resumed their tracking early, at sunrise. Maitreya had waited outside Chintu’s gate and Alisha at Arjun’s.

  ‘Something’s definitely up, I think,’ said Maitreya as he gazed across the road at Chintu and Arjun. ‘There must be a reason behind the two of them meeting here, at the bazaar. This could lead to something.’

  Both Chintu and Arjun had emerged from their homes at about the same time—only minutes earlier. Each had mounted his cycle and biked to the bazaar, where they had met up. Maitreya and Alisha had followed. Maitreya had then spotted Alisha and the two of them had halted opposite the cycle shop.

  ‘I’m glad we are together now,’ said Alisha. ‘That Arjun gives me the creeps.’

  ‘Both are nasty,’ said Maitreya. ‘They’ve dumped me as a friend now that I’ve switched sides. They haven’t been nice to me since.’

  ‘Hey, squirrel lovers,’ called out Arjun from across the road. ‘Think you’re smart, don’t you? Track Arjun and Chintu 24/7. Follow, and they will lead you to the white-headed squirrel! Wow, that’s clever thinking. Very clever—real Einsteins, both of you.’

  ‘Heh-heh,’ sneered Chintu, standing beside Arjun. ‘Nutty as hell. Must be the nuts they eat like their squirrel friends do.’

  Both boys roared with laughter. ‘Nutty!’ cried Chintu, clutching his sides.

  ‘Maitreya is the nut behind this,’ continued Arjun when their laughing subsided. ‘He’s the brainiest—sorry, nuttiest—kid in class. Well, we’ll give you something to chew on, nut lovers. The last nut, the very last nut in your white-headed squirrel’s coffin.’

  ‘Yeah!’ said Chintu. ‘We win. You lose. Your white-headed squirrel will soon be gone forever. We’re going to get rich. And all you will have are nuts in your pockets!’

  A black van swept up the dusty road and stopped next to the boys. A door opened. The boys entered and slammed the door behind them.

  ‘Follow!’ shouted Maitreya, pedalling as the van started to move. Alisha sped her bike forward. The van quickly accelerated. Maitreya and Alisha pedalled furiously but, despite their best efforts, the van pulled away. Soon they were out of the bazaar area and the road broadened.

  ‘Nutty dreams, squirrel lovers!’ shouted Arjun as the van sped away.

  Maitreya halted when the van was but a speck on the road. ‘I-it’s pointless,’ he panted. ‘We don’t stand a chance on our bikes. They’ve got away.’

  Alisha’s eyes were filled with tears. ‘We have to stop them! You heard them—they’re getting their money. They’re giving Snowdrop away! Poor Mitalee. She’ll never be the same if she loses him.’

  ‘I’ve memorized the van’s number,’ said Maitreya. ‘Come on. Let’s head to Mitalee’s. We’re not giving up.’

  Alisha and Maitreya raced their cycles. It was several minutes before they made it to the Rose Garden.

  Mitalee was at the gate, her face streaked with tears.

  ‘S-S-Snowdrop,’ she sobbed. ‘They’ve sold him. The website says “SOLD” next to his photo. Oh, Alisha, Maitreya . . . my Snowdrop is gone.’

  Shikar

  ‘You sure this is the den?’ asked Kabul the bulbul.

  ‘This is it,’ said Snow-prise, the paradise flycatcher. ‘I tracked the human boys here. This is where they brought the white-headed squirrel.’

  The human den below them was small, more a shed or a garage rather than an actual home. From the sky it looked even tinier than it was, as it was set in a huge yard with a scattering of trees and grass. A doo-doo* was parked in the yard and the door of the den was open.

  The birds touched down on a flowering copper pod tree that grew beside the den. If a human birdwatcher had been looking on, he would have marvelled at the birds flocked in the tree. The most eye-catching of them all—the bird of jaw-dropping beauty—was the paradise flycatcher. But equally delightful were the two minivets, one of them a dazzling shade of red and the other a bright yellow. There was another yellow bird too, the iora, and completing the flock were a bulbul and a magpie-robin.

  Senora the iora was tired. Unlike the scout minivets’ wings, which were accustomed to constant flying, hers weren’t anywhere near as hardy or strong. The non-stop flight that morning had drained her.

  They had departed the Southern Forests in the darkness, several hours before dawn. The birds had flown hard and fast—much faster than on the outward journey—and had arrived at the Rose Garden a short while earlier.

  Kabul had been delighted to see Snow-prise and overjoyed to discover that the paradise flycatcher had witnessed Shikar’s abduction. Snow-prise had explained that the only reason he had dropped by the gardens was to meet its famous bird-language-speaking squirrel. Snow-prise had been fascinated with Shikar and they had spent a considerable amount of time together. It was after their meeting, while Snow-prise was flitting amongst the trees, hunting for his lunch, that the squirrel-napping had taken place. Two boys had lured the squirrel into a cage by placing some fruits inside it. After trapping him, they had mounted their bicycles and cycled far, to a human den—the very den in the yard below. Snow-prise had trailed them, flying above. He had seen them place the cage inside the den and then cycle away.

  ‘I spotted a falcon in the sky soon after,’ the flycatcher had said. ‘He had seen me and was circling above. I’m terrified of falcons—one almost got me some time back. So I lay low, hiding in the trees. When he was gone, I flew away. Straight home to my forests. I’m sorry, my plan was to come to the Rose Garden and report the squirrel-napping, but the falcon spoiled all that.’ The paradise flycatcher had then led them to the yard.

  Now, settled in the copper pod tree, Kabul stared at the human den, her heart aflutter. If the flycatcher’s information was correct, her beloved squirrel was in there. She might soon be united with him. But first, she had to establish that Shikar was indeed there.

  Kabul turned to the magpie-robin. ‘Blackpie,’ she said, ‘drop down to that window below. Peep inside. Check if there are any humans about. Look for Shikar too. Our dear squirrel should be inside.’

  Blackpie flew to the window. Barely had he settled there when the black-and-white bird took flight again, shooting back to the tree, squawking jubilantly, ‘Shikar is here! He’s inside, locked in a cage. My friend is alive! Oh, this is the greatest day ever . . . I am the happiest mag
pie-robin alive.’

  There was an explosion of joyful screeching from the tree. The birds’ happiness knew no bounds. Blackpie wheeled in the sky, Senora flapped an energetic jig and even the usually restrained Kabul bounced like a human baby. At last—at long, long last—they had found their dear lost friend.

  Kabul cautioned the birds when the celebrations had died down. ‘Rein in your wings,’ she warned. ‘Don’t let them carry you away. Finding Shikar is only half the battle won. We still have to rescue him. You can never tell with humans. We’ll wait and watch, then plan our next move.’

  Down below in the hut, Chintu was upset.

  ‘Only Rs 5000 each, Mr Pawar? That’s cheating. You’ve sold the squirrel for Rs 5 lakhs. Surely you can give us more.’

  ‘That’s daylight robbery,’ protested Arjun. ‘You had promised us Rs 50,000 each.’

  Mr Pawar was a short, skinny man with slitted eyes. ‘Don’t argue with me, boys,’ he growled. ‘Be happy with what you get. Five lakhs was the asking price—not what we got. People aren’t dumb to pay so much for a squirrel, even if it is white-headed! The best offer we received was Rs 50,000. We’ve closed the deal, so that’s it. Now I’ve paid both of you your share. Will you hand over the cage or should I take the squirrel from you forcibly?’

  The cage lay on a bed to one side of the room. Chintu reluctantly crossed over to the bed and collected it. Returning, he placed it on the table around which the men stood.

  Mr Pawar and his friend Raju leaned forward, staring inside.

  The cage shook as Shikar leapt, lunging at Raju’s rather large nose, which was pressed against the bars. Raju, who was big and hulking, yelled and stepped back, almost falling over.

  Mr Pawar grabbed the cage, lifting it. ‘That’s a fine specimen of a squirrel,’ he said. ‘Strong and healthy. Pity we are only getting Rs 50,000 for him. Come along, Raju. We have a deadline. Let’s leave. We have to be back in Mumbai by evening. No deal if we don’t return by then.’

  ‘How about Rs 5000 more?’ pleaded Chintu as Mr Pawar and Raju tramped out of the cottage. ‘Just 5000. You can afford that. It is a fine squirrel as you said. You should pay more for him!’

  Ignoring the boy, Mr Pawar walked to the van and opened the door. Shikar squeaked loudly as his cage was deposited inside. The two men settled in the vehicle and Raju cranked the engine.

  There was panic in the copper pod tree.

  ‘Kabul! We have to stop them,’ cried Blackpie.

  ‘Hold on!’ squawked Snow-prise. ‘Leave this to me. I can stall the humans. I’ve done it before. They stop in their tracks when they see me. I’ll keep them occupied . . . Meanwhile, you get help, Kabul.’

  With that, the paradise flycatcher swooped down. Flying boldly to the van, Snow-prise hovered in front of the windshield, in full view of the humans.

  ‘Oh, mere baap!’ croaked Mr Pawar. ‘Look at that bird, Raju. It’s beautiful! Mere baap, it’s gorgeous. That’s worth Rs 10,000. Switch off the engine, Raju. Switch if off, you idiot! We have nets in the car. On your feet, you lazy fellow, we have to catch it.’

  Above, from the tree, Scarlet took to his wings. ‘Come on, Bright-Jet,’ he squawked. ‘Snow-prise isn’t the only bird who can distract humans. We can too. Let’s join him!’

  ‘That’s right,’ sniffed Bright-Jet. ‘We are beautiful too. We’ll show Snow-prise! Let’s go.’

  The minivets swept down from the tree and hovered beside Snow-prise.

  Mr Pawar’s mouth popped open, goldfish-like. ‘Mere baap! This is our matka day, Raju. LOOK at those birds! Ek aag jaisa, toh doosra suraj jaisa. Boys! Help us catch all three. You’ll get that extra 5000 you begged for if we capture them. Come on!’

  Kabul turned to her companions when the humans had leapt out of the car. ‘That’s great work,’ she said. ‘Our friends have done their job. It’s up to us now. Senora, Blackpie—both of you fly to the Rose Garden. Get the human girl here. She’s our best hope to rescue Shikar. Attract her attention and lead her here. I know you can do it. Make haste. Fly like falcons.’

  The Rescue

  Blackpie and Senora took to the skies.

  Birds fly fast. There is no traffic in the skies and they cut across to their destination in a straight line. Distances that humans take forever to cover are traversed in minutes. Blackpie and Senora sped at near falcon-speed and were at the Rose Garden in little more than a minute.

  Blackpie was thrilled to spot Mitalee on the lawn. There were two other humans with her—one of whom he recognized as the boy who had fired at them with his catapult. Under normal circumstances, Blackpie would have shied away, wanting nothing to do with an obvious enemy. But the circumstances were extraordinary and both Blackpie and Senora ignored the warning messages their bird-brains flashed to them. Calling loudly, they flew to Mitalee and her friends.

  Alisha screamed and covered her face. Mitalee and Maitreya stared.

  The birds squawked and hovered above them. Then they sped to the driveway and settled on the cycles parked there.

  ‘Woah!’ exclaimed Maitreya. ‘I’ve never seen birds behave like that. That’s so cool!’

  The birds flew back to the children. Once again they fluttered before them, screeching deafeningly—louder even than babbler birds. Then they returned to the gate and the cycles.

  ‘Cycles?’ said Maitreya, scratching his head. ‘Whatever do they want with our cycles?’

  Mitalee said urgently, ‘They are telling us something! I don’t know what it is but they are trying to say something.’

  The birds travelled back and forth, flying to the humans and then to the cycles.

  ‘They . . . want us . . . to go somewhere?’ said Maitreya, speaking slowly. ‘Is that why they keep returning to the cycles?’

  ‘That’s it!’ cried Mitalee. ‘They want us to get on our cycles.’ She ran forward and grabbed one. The birds immediately flew to the gate. Perching there, they stared back, calling loudly.

  ‘We’ve cracked it, Mitalee!’ said Maitreya. ‘They want us to follow.’

  ‘Wait for me,’ she shouted. ‘I’ll get my bike.’

  ‘But you’re grounded,’ said Alisha when Mitalee returned breathlessly with her cycle.

  ‘Not now,’ said Mitalee. ‘My mother will understand. Look at the birds. Maitreya’s right, they want us to follow. We have to go. Come on, let’s tail them.’

  The three friends mounted their bicycles. The birds flew forward and the children pedalled behind.

  Back at the copper pod tree, Kabul the bulbul dropped to the roof of the van. No one was watching. Far out in the yard, the boys and the men were stalking the birds with nets in their hands. Snow-prise and the minivets had successfully diverted the humans.

  The door of the van was open. Kabul hopped inside.

  A joyous squeak erupted. ‘KABUL!’ cried Shikar.

  The bulbul flew to the cage. ‘Shikar! My darling squirrel! My wonderful snow-headed son! I thought I had lost you. Greatbill has been kind to me.’

  Shikar pressed his nose against the bars. Kabul squeezed her beak between them, stroking the squirrel’s furry head.

  ‘I missed you, Kabul,’ whispered the squirrel, his voice breaking. ‘I thought I would never ever see you again.’

  ‘It’s okay, my child,’ said the bird, speaking softly. ‘Kabul will never leave you. She will always be there for you. Always.’

  A silence followed, deep and soulful. Time passed. The bulbul and the squirrel stood still, lost in the bliss of their reunion.

  Finally, Shikar lifted his snow-white head. ‘Get me out, Kabul,’ he said. ‘Get me out of here. I want to go back to my Rose Garden, my friends, my home.’

  ‘You will be out soon, Shikar,’ said Kabul. ‘My beak cannot open your cage but help is coming. Your human friend, the girl, is on her way. I’ve sent Blackpie and Senora to fetch her. We will have you out soon. Don’t worry. All will be fine and you will be back home.’

  Although Kabul spoke confidently, Sh
ikar sensed that all wasn’t well. The bulbul’s tone wasn’t convincing. But the uncertainty did not dampen the squirrel’s spirit. His friends were here and that was all that mattered.

  ‘Yay!’ celebrated Shikar. ‘I’m finally going to be rid of this horrible cage. Blackpie won’t fail us. He’s a brave bird and my best friend.’

  Kabul hopped to the steering wheel and peered through the windshield. Snow-prise and the minivets were flitting from tree to tree. The humans were following, moving further and further from the van. From her perch on the wheel, Kabul applauded the bravery of the birds. Speaking to Shikar, she described their successful sidetracking of the humans.

  ‘The paradise flycatcher had warned me,’ said Shikar. ‘He told me not to enter the cage that terrible day, but I did not listen to him.’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later, Shikar. There’s a lot you are going to hear from me. For now, I will keep you informed of what’s happening outside.’

  Kabul marvelled at the courage of the paradise flycatcher as she stared out across the yard. The minivets stayed high in the trees, well out of reach of the humans. But Snow-prise kept low, constantly presenting the humans a chance to snare him, keeping them interested. The bulbul watched the drama unfold.

  Blackpie wished with all his little heart that the humans would move faster. It was ridiculous how slow they were! Even a cormorant with soaked wings could do better. Senora and he squawked loudly as they flew, urging the children forward.

  The three friends stayed level as they pedalled. Mitalee was the fastest. Maitreya and Alisha had to work hard to keep up with her. It was a good thing that the roads were empty. At their on-the-edge speed, they might easily have lost control dodging oncoming traffic. The yard was a considerable distance from the gardens, yet their pell-mell dash enabled them to reach it soon.

  ‘Slow down,’ cautioned Maitreya on spotting the black van. He instantly identified it as the vehicle Chintu and Arjun had been driven away in. Then he saw the boys at the far end of the yard. ‘Look,’ he said, pointing, ‘Chintu and Arjun! They haven’t seen us. Quick! Pedal to the gate. We’ll hide there.’