15 A Bird Talks to Me

Chapter 15 IN WHICH A Bird Talks to Me The sun is just hitting the tops of the trees when I find a well-marked trail to the big falls and take off along it. I hear the cry of a goshawk and look up. Recognizing the female by her great size, I stop running to admire the silver gray body streaking through the sky. She is carrying a rabbit home to her nestlings in her taloned feet. I keep her in view as I follow her toward the falls. Suddenly she screams the alarm cry of the goshawk. Her mate appears in the sky, seemingly coming from nowhere, and dives straight down at me. I must be near the nest. I am. High in the spruce tree in front of me is a large nest of sticks and—climbing up toward it— Alice.

There she is. Her yellow hair sticks straight up as she lifts a wiry leg and places it on a limb. The female goshawk climbs, positions herself above Alice, and dives. "Alice!" I yell. "Duck." With her wings snapping to gain speed, the great bird aims for Alice, who ducks her head just in time. The female shoots over the treetops, turns, and comes screaming back. The gleaming scimitars that are her talons slice the air just above Alice's head. "Alice," I shout again. "Get down here." "Sam!" She looks down and laughs happily. "You're going to get hurt!" I holler angrily. "She can't hit me," Alice answers and leans out to see me better. "There're too many limbs." The spruce tree is densely limbed and needled, but what Alice doesn't know is that a goshawk can maneuver a maze. The frantic hawk speeds upward and, catching a downdraft, hurtles herself at Alice again. "Here she comes!"

Alice pulls a limb across her body. The hawk dodges it and flies off. Once more Alice leans out to look down at me. "Sam, hi. I knew you'd find me." "Alice, get down here. That bird is dangerous." "I'm okay. I won't let her hit me." She brandishes a spruce branch to show me how she fends the bird off. "Please." "Not yet." She climbs higher. The female screams an alarm which is answered by the tercel, who instantly appears and dive-bombs Alice. Three crows hear the alarm and fly out of the woods to harass the goshawks. Cawing frantically, the crows pursue. To them, any bird of prey must be harassed, but goshawks must be unmercifully bedeviled. They caw without letup. The tercel ignores them and climbs, it seems to me, into the very stratosphere. Somewhere out of sight he turns and conies into view, plunging straight down at my sister. She flattens herself her against the tree. This is crazy. "Come down, Alice!"

"No." Concerned now, I take a running start, jump, grab the first limb of the spruce, and find myself kicking wildly to fend off the female goshawk. Alice climbs higher. I climb after her. The red eyes of the tercel flash as he comes at me. I pull down a branch. He veers, screams, and speeds off. After wiping spruce dust out of my eyes, I look up to see Alice practically in the nest. "Sam, come look at the babies." I can't believe what she's doing. Miss Turner told her what happened to people who went near goshawk nests. "Get down before you're knocked down," I shout and climb faster. Alice doesn't come down. I can barely see her for the dense limbs, but I do see the parent goshawks. They scream and dive, but do not hit her. I watch and wait, not daring to climb any higher. The limbs that hold the nest are too small to support both Alice and me. The nestlings call their wheezy notes. The parents swoop. Finally, Alice starts down, and I lower

myself on the ladder of limbs, looking up as I go to make sure she's coming. Through the needles, I see three baby goshawks peering over the side of the nest. Their mouths are open in fury. The tercel circles the tree and grows calmer as we descend. I drop to the ground, followed by Alice. The female alights on the top of a dead tree, panting from fatigue and fear. Her beak is open, her tongue thrust out. She lowers her wings to attack again. What courage. I pull Alice across the clearing into the shelter of the forest understory. Out of breath, we stop and look at each other. "Where have you been?" she asks. "Where have I been? Alice—!" What can I say? "You've got a cut on your head," is all I can think of, so I say it. Taking out some leaves of the horse sorrel I had picked for last night's meal, I wipe away the blood. The Iroquois Indians used the leaves and roots of this plant to stop bleeding and purify cuts. The bleeding does stop.

"You look like a war veteran," I say, throwing my arms around both her and her pack. "Be careful," she says, pulling away. The goshawks have located us and are circling above the trees. I take Alice's hand and pull her to the edge of the escarpment, where I had seen a ledge about ten feet down. I scramble to it and reach up to help her. She slides to my side. We find ourselves on a ledge under an overhang. I push Alice far under it. "Get back there where the birds can't see you," I say, urging her deeper into the cavelike shelter. "Be careful," she snaps. "You're jabbing the baby." "What are you talking about?" Taking off her pack she opens it and gently lifts a screaming, fighting baby goshawk. "What are you doing with that?" I shout. "Sam, don't be mad." The fierce nestling clenches her talons on air. "I got her for you. When I read your note saying Frightful had been confiscated, I cried. Then I remembered the goshawks Miss Turner had told us about. So I got you one."