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She sat up and blinked, trying to take in her strange surroundings. Tall sycamore trees towered overhead, their roots twisted and arched and sculpted by the riverbank. A jungle of purple, yellow, and white wildflowers, most of them beaten down by the rainstorm, was being visited by scores of brightly colored b.u.t.terflies. Celeste had never seen anything so dazzling.
But she paid little attention to the beauty of b.u.t.terflies. She was starving. Every bit of her energy had been spent in surviving the storm. Glancing around, she found some soft gra.s.s blades and nibbled at those. She made her way along the sandy riverbank slowly; found jewelweed seeds, some wild cherries that had blown to the ground, and a small beetle; and quickly gobbled them down.
She was totally disoriented-which way was the plantation? Intuitively she figured she should head upstream, along the bank; but how far?
She was contemplating her next move when suddenly she was cast in shadow. An enormous bird swooped down at her, almost but not quite grabbing her with strong talons, and then landed with a flourish beside her. Celeste did a double flip in the air, landing on all fours, ready to race away. But the bird didn't attack; in fact, it looked at her curiously and asked a question: "Are you out of your cotton-pickin' mind? What are you doing way out here in the middle of the day? You should be under cover somewhere-somewhere safe and protected-'cause something's going to want to eat a little tidbit like you, sweetheart!"
Celeste was so surprised she could barely say anything. "I...I..." she stammered.
"I understand perfectly, darlin'," the bird said. "You're lost, you're covered with dried mud, you look like a drowned rat, and I bet you're hungry enough to eat a dead polecat. Am I right?"
Celeste couldn't help but giggle. "Yes! Do I really look like a drowned rat?"
"You do indeed, honey pie. You take a ride on a mighty big raindrop last night? That was a humdinger of a storm!"
Celeste smiled. She liked this big bird! He had huge, golden yellow eyes that twinkled and a sharp beak that smiled. His wing feathers were dark brown, his chest creamy white with tawny streaks and spots. There was something slightly amusing about him that made Celeste feel safe and happy at the same time.
He continued. "I was way, way up in the air; and I looked down and I said, 'Lafayette'-that's my name, sugar plum, Lafayette-well, anyways, I looked down and I said to myself I said, 'Self, now, that looks like somebody in trouble; that's what I think. I need to go check on that one, like any good osprey would do' and I circled a couple of times and then swooped down, and here I am! Now, what I want to know is, are you in trouble or not?"
Celeste thought she'd better answer honestly. "Yes, I guess I am, Lafayette. I got swept up in the rainstorm last night, and the current carried me here. I don't know where I am!"
"Lost, huh?" Lafayette scrunched his face as he stretched out one wing, then the other. "Ooh! That feels good! Been flying all morning." He sighed.
"Your wings are amazing.... Is it fun to fly?" asked Celeste.
"Well," said the osprey, "I guess I never thought much about it. You're high up, of course, and so you can see quite a ways. It's quiet, and very green, because there's mile after mile of treetops-tall, tall sycamores-just the river and fields in between."
"Sounds lovely," murmured Celeste.
"Most of the time I spend sailing up and down the river," the osprey continued. "I know every snag, every shallow, all the good trees to sit in. Up and down, up and down, miles and miles along the river."
"I live at the plantation, in the house. Do you know the plantation near here? I want to get home."
"Well, there's lots of plantations 'round these parts. Lots of 'em. You say you live in a plantation house?" He eyed Celeste doubtfully. "Well, well. Which one is yours?"
"It's a big house, with big magnolia trees around it. There are some barns, and horses; and a family lives there, and so do I."
"Hmm. You're a long way from home, that's for sure, dumplin'. The closest plantation is quite a ways. There's the big plantation beyond the cypress woods, and the big plantation out on past the bayou, and..." Lafayette continued talking, telling Celeste about his brother-in-law up the river and his second cousin once removed down the river...chattering away while Celeste was formulating an idea.
She interrupted him. "Um, Lafayette," she said. "Could you meet me right here at this very spot tomorrow, say right about sunup?"
"Why, sure, sweet potata. I can be here any time you say. But what for?"
"I want you to help me get home."
"Now, how do you figure I can do that? You gonna hang on to my claws? Ride on my back? That's a little dangerous, don't you think?"
"I've got a plan, and I think it will work. Will you be here?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be here. You want to tell me what the plan is?"
"I think I'll surprise you, Lafayette!"
"Okeydokey, I like surprises. I can wait to hear about your mysterious little plan. And now that I know you're all right, will you pardon me while I continue on with my fishing trip?" With a series of strong flaps, he lifted into the air. "Toodle-oo!" he called from high above the sycamores. "Now, you be careful!"
Celeste was alone again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
The Gondola.
First, Celeste went to the edge of the creek and took a long, cold bath, rinsing out the dried mud from her fur and whiskers. "Brrr! "Brrr! That was cold, but it feels good to be clean again!" she said, shaking off as much water as she could. That was cold, but it feels good to be clean again!" she said, shaking off as much water as she could.
Then she set to work, finding a spot nearby under the protective cover of some thick weeds. She started by collecting dried gra.s.ses and weed stalks from the surrounding area, gathering big armfuls from the thick tussocks that were growing in abundance along the creek. She was delighted to find several strands of horse or cow hair, washed along the banks of the creek from some distant pasture upstream.
Emerald green dragonflies and cerulean damselflies darted around her head as she worked. She stopped briefly to nibble on more seeds.
She carefully laid out her supply of dried material across the ground. She selected only the strongest gra.s.ses, those without any insect damage or weak stems or other flaws, and set them to one side.
Of the selected gra.s.s blades, she chose the two thickest ones and, braiding them tightly around the strands of horsehair, made a very strong length of rope. Then she started weaving a large basket, bigger than any she had made before, using strong blades of gra.s.s and weaving them tightly and with extrastrong knots. She took the rope and wove it into the basket, interlacing it over and through as she created a large gondola, big enough to hold a mouse, with a rope handle. Celeste thought of her mother as she worked. Her mother would have been proud.
The moon rose, a pale rose-colored disk that illuminated the jewelweed.
Before morning she had nearly finished. Scouting the sandy sh.o.r.eline of the creek, she found several tiny white coquina sh.e.l.ls with holes in them, and used them to decorate the sides of the basket. As a last touch, she added a red cardinal feather.
Celeste carefully dragged the basket to a little clearing in the weeds. She covered the basket with a sycamore leaf in preparation for Lafayette's return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.
Lafayette Returns.
Sure enough, just before dawn Celeste heard the osprey's high-pitched call as he wheeled and soared above the creek. She ran back and forth along the sandy bank until the osprey spotted her far below.
He circled and swooped and landed lightly, if awkwardly, on the narrow creek bank.
"Not much room for a landing," Lafayette joked. "How are things with my little sugar pie this morning?"
"Oh, I'm fine," answered Celeste. "But I do have a favor to ask of you."
"What's that, sugar plum?"
"Would you take me home now?" asked Celeste.
The osprey raised a brow.
"I don't weigh very much," she added.
Then he grinned. "Why sure, honey! But now, just how would you suggest I do that?"
With a flourish, Celeste pulled away the sycamore leaf and revealed the basket. There was the tightly woven gondola with its reinforced strap, complete with decorative sh.e.l.ls and a cardinal feather.
"Holy catfish!" exclaimed Lafayette. "You've been busy! Is this your mysterious plan? It's splendid splendid....
Did you actually make make this?" He picked up the basket gently with his beak, turning it around and admiring it from all sides. this?" He picked up the basket gently with his beak, turning it around and admiring it from all sides.
Celeste blushed. No one had ever admired her work before. She hardly knew how to react.
"There's nothing to it, really. Usually the difficult part is getting the supplies, but there were plenty of gra.s.ses around here. After that it's a matter of the doing. I just do what my paws say to do."
"I admire those folks who are clever with their paws." The osprey sighed, studying the intricate basket. "I've always been so clumsy with my talons."
"I can't imagine you being clumsy at anything," said Celeste.
"Aw, go on!" Lafayette blushed. "I could never do what you can do. This basket is amazing! A work of art! And all by your lonesome? You're amazing, sugar pie! And you're thinking I can give you a ride in it?"
Celeste pointed to the two straps. "If you grab here, and here, with your talons, I'm sure it's st.u.r.dy enough. And it's lightweight, too, so I wouldn't be much of a burden. Can we give it a try?"
"Absolutely! I'm game if you are. Afraid of heights?"
"Well, I don't know...yet!"
The morning air was cool and damp, and heavy dew covered every surface. Even in the predawn light Celeste could see that the entire world was blanketed in silvery droplets. The air was full of the scent of magnolia and jasmine blossoms. Celeste couldn't wait to try the gondola.
Lafayette's eyes glowed and his feathers were ruffled with antic.i.p.ation as he maneuvered the basket. He carefully clasped its handle in his talons and lifted it with one foot. Celeste hopped into the gondola and gripped the rim tightly.
"Ready?" he called out.
"Ready!" she cheered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
Flight.
With a few flaps of the osprey's powerful wings the basket lifted slightly. It dragged for a moment along the sandy shoal and then, in a flash, the ground dropped away as Lafayette soared upward. Celeste squealed as a sycamore loomed in front of them, then below them, then behind them as the two rose and wheeled in the air.
Celeste turned in her basket. The osprey's huge tail feathers fanned out in a striped pattern above her head.
Lafayette flapped over the creek in a widening arch, and Celeste could see the world getting bigger as they soared up. She saw that there were other creeks, and vast stretches of woods and fields, dotted with houses and barns, striped with fences and sandy roads.
"Hanging on tight?" the osprey shouted down to Celeste.
"Yes!" she chittered back. She clutched the rim of the basket, adrenaline racing through her tiny body. It seemed that all her strength and energy was spent clinging to the basket, but she desperately wanted to remember every detail of the flight.
The creek bank was soon far behind. She looked down, trying to find a familiar landmark, but didn't recognize anything. The distant fields and woods were deep green in the early-morning light, the air cool and misty as it flowed past Celeste's whiskers.
"Should I go back down?" called the osprey.
"No! This is wonderful!"
"Hold on! Now I want to take you for a real treat."
Lafayette banked his wings to the left and angled sharply.
"Eee!" Celeste squealed rapturously. "Do that again!" And the graceful bird dipped and swooped dangerously close to the treetops. Celeste squealed rapturously. "Do that again!" And the graceful bird dipped and swooped dangerously close to the treetops.
"See that? The river!"-and he turned again, nearing an expanse of water nearly a mile wide. The sun had just peeked above the tree line to the east, turning the water into a golden mirror dotted with hovering patches of peach-and-honey-colored mist. Hundreds and hundreds of ducks were careening along the sh.o.r.eline in loose flocks.
The osprey dipped slightly as they neared an enormous sycamore tree along the riverbank; as the basket glided between its branches, they saw scores of yellow, green, and orange parakeets.
"h.e.l.lo, down there!"
Celeste called to them.
"h.e.l.lo!" they chattered and screeched back.
Lafayette continued up the river, alternately soaring just above the treetops and flapping just above the water's surface. Celeste breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet, musky smell of the river as the air rushed across her whiskers.
They headed toward an open part of the woods; Celeste could see that it seemed to be flooded with river water. The trees were different here, not like the thick stands of poplar or the spreading branches of the live oaks that grew in the yard of the plantation. These trees seemed to pop right out of the water. Their branches were festooned with long tresses of hanging moss.
She looked closer. Down along the banks of the dark water she could see long, rough-skinned creatures basking in patches of sunlight. One of them opened its huge mouth as they flew over and bellowed. Celeste could see rows of sharp teeth.
"Gators!" Lafayette hollered out, grinning. "Hold on tight! Don't want to drop you now!"
They flew above long-necked birds that lined and dotted the tree limbs by the thousands. As Lafayette and Celeste cleared the tree canopy they surprised the birds. The birds' necks and wings stretched out, and they squawked and croaked in a deafening cacophony. Celeste looked down as the entire flock took flight, flapping and swirling, brilliantly white in the morning sun.
Lafayette flew in long, wide circles over the area, with Celeste scanning for anything familiar. Suddenly she shouted out. "There! Below! That's it, I'm sure! That's the big house!"
It was hard to recognize, because she had never seen the plantation house from this view; but the little bedroom window with the magnolia nearby was unmistakable. Lafayette circled down.