Dodos in the Early Morning Haze
A David Sands Competition story by Professor Mackenzie (Charles Braham)
An entry in The Sands of Time Writing Competition
The Island
The Island was about eight and a half miles by five miles. A circular reef surrounded it. From the sky it would appear very much as the Yin symbol from the Yin/Yang design. To the north the ground rose sharply. A curved plateau ran southwards and was thickly forested. The eastern rocky shore formed a crescent. A stream ran down the hillside with the promise of fresh drinking water. The shore gave way to scrubland, dotted with bushes or tussocks, rising up several hundred yards to the top of the incline. It seemed likely that the western side was a cliff, dropping some two hundred and fifty yards to the sea. We had arrived at night and selected a flat, rocky surface some yards above the high water mark as the site for our Shelters. At the northern end of the island was perhaps the smallest volcano I’ve ever seen, with just a wisp of smoke emerging from the crater.
The Mission
We had two Shelters, four Zoologists, and twenty four hours before our absence had to be explained to anyone. I had identified a small island that seemed to show great promise. We were to arrive at night, assemble a couple of sampling cages, and wait for the early dawn before setting out to capture, sample, photograph, and record any of the island fauna we could find. Of course we couldn’t actually collect any Flora or Fauna for obvious reasons. I had certain expectations which I did not reveal to my team, as at that time I had no hard evidence to support my conjectures. Two teams would be used, one to survey the hillside and low vegetation there, the other to ascend to the plateau and survey the forest. A likely route up was alongside the stream. There was no necessity for radio silence so we would be in touch. However it was vitally important not to disturb any inhabitants so the volume would be kept to a minimum.
The Background
Reg met me outside Attenborough. As usual he wore his brown storeman’s coat. We’d never really taken to jumpsuits at St David’s. A small sprig of mistletoe had been added to his clipboard for the forthcoming occasion. “Numbers three and four are fully charged and re-supplied. They won’t be inspected until Boxing Day. You have twenty four hours. We never had this conversation!” Jake, Carol, and Dr Rumstead were all ready to come with me, in flagrant defiance of standing orders. They all knew how I felt about the impending festivities, and for their own reasons had agreed to accompany me. I’m going to try to document what happened, but I’m not a historian. I’m not a skilled writer. My words don’t flow, I fall over my adjectives, and I miss things out only to remember them later. I run out of synonyms. So I’ll just try to set down the story.
It all started so well!
Jake and Carol were to survey the forested area on the top of the ridge. Being somewhat younger and fitter than the good Doctor and they thought they were better fitted for the climb. We didn’t argue. They carried one of our sampling cages and positioned it close to the stream. The other cage Rumstead and I carried uphill into the darkness, and found a level spot to set it up. Standard trap cages they were, baited with fruit. We returned to the shelters to wait until first light and make a nice cup of tea. As the light of false dawn began to illuminate the island Jake and Carol headed off to begin the arduous climb up the stream bank to the forest. Dr Rumstead and I headed up the hill into the fog. The hillside was covered in a hazy mist that seemed to be rolling down the hill from the ridge. It made finding out footing very awkward and we were glad of our sampling sticks for additional support! As the sun rose the mist dimished to a layer about chest height. There seemed to be movement in the mist. Hummocky boulders and plants were slowly revealed. Something rushed past my feet and a strange but immensely welcome sound began to issue from the haze:
Grockle Grockle Grockle, Grockle Grockle!
And then we saw them, Unmistakable Dodos in the early morning haze! They were everywhere, fossicking about, bumping into rocks and each other in their joyful greeting of the dawn. My theories seemed to be correct. We had found the lost colony! For several hours we recorded their antics and took samples for later analysis. They ate grubs and roots mostly, but they seemed to mistake shoelaces for worms, and set about them with enthusiasm. I had to turf one out of my sampling bag, in which it wanted to take up residence. Odd behaviour. They evinced not a scrap of fear in our presence, and fairly soon we were surrounded by curious dodos, grockling happily. On closer inspection I could see that they had certain differences to the Mauritius Dodos, insomuch as they were somewhat smaller, and had less bone growth to the forepart of their bills. This was not Raphus Cucullatus but seemed more like the Rodrigues solitaire dodo. So we had a dodo variation hitherto unknown to science! To say that Rumstead and I were as happy as pigs in clover was to put it mildly!
Meanwhile Uphill
Jake and Carol made slow work of the ascension. The rounded boulders along the stream bank seemed to afford good footing, but had a nasty habit of moving when weight was placed on them. This made the footing somewhat treacherous. Climbing carefully, they took a couple of hours to reach the ridge. The humidity was appalling and they were both drenched with sweat which attracted a number of attentive mosquitoes. Burdened as they were with their rucksacks they took a few minutes to refresh themselves before plunging into the surprisingly dense forest. Jake carried the instrument bag and Carol the water, sandwiches, and sampling equipment. Something fairly large was moving about in the forest. As they made their way into the forest a pungent smell grew. It had overtones of rotting corpses and burned feathers. Not a pleasant smell at all. “Perhaps we could find a clearing?” Carol enquired. They moved cautiously into the trees. A riot of brightly coloured birds took to the sky. Jake did his best to record them, but they stayed up high in the treetops.
A low rumbling sound seemed to come from the very ground itself, which shook for a few seconds. Jake and Carol looked at each other and started to stow their gear. Standing orders were to return to the Shelters if there were any quakes. Jake was just hoisting the instrument bag when it all went bad.
GROCKLE
A huge bird burst from the trees, standing about nine feet tall. It appeared to be a giant dodo. But this dodo clearly didn’t waste time grubbing for roots and insects. It wanted Zoologist, and took a large bite out of Jake. Fortunately it connected with his backpack which it wrenched off and shook before smashing it repeatedly on a convenient rock. Jake and Carol eased away slowly. They had to run for the shelters and avoid becoming lunch in the process. There was further movement in the forest and Jake and Carol had to leap out of the way when another giant dodo advanced on them. They ran. After crashing through the forest they suddenly realised that they were lost. The compass had been in Jake’s rucksack.
Another deep rumbling was accompanied by an unmistakable belch from the direction of the volcano. With North established they worked their way back to the slope as quickly and quietly as they could. Jake wanted to go back for the instrument bag. “We can’t leave it behind. Wait here for ten minutes and if I don’t come back you’ll have to go on without me”
As Jake wormed his way back to the clearing Carol waited and worried before deciding that she better make use of the remaining time on the plateau. A few minutes later a crashing in the undergrowth revealed Jake, minus the instrument bag and running hard. Sounds of enthusiastic pursuit came from close behind him. They both ran. As they did so Jake noticed packets of sandwiches discarded on the ground. Carol had used her time well and soon the dodos had to choose between sandwiches and zoologist. It didn’t hold the birds long though. As they reached the forest edge they could see the volcano had woken up. A steady stream of smoke issued from the cauldron. The giant dodo emerged from the forest, and plunged down the slope behind them, it’s great beak snapping closed on empty air with a loud Clopping sound.
At that moment the volcano erupted. A circular smoke cloud puffed up from the crater, followed by the smallest and most flatulent eruption imaginable. The volcano cleared its throat. A scattering of lava bombs hurtled up from the crater and lazily began to fall back to ground. One of them seemed to be getting closer and closer. The Giant Dodo was catching up. Jake and Carol still had several hundred yards to go before reaching the beach. That didn’t seem to be getting any closer at all!
Lava began to spill down the flanks of the volcano, and within minutes a large fire had started to the north.
Just as Jake and Carol turned to meet the enraged bird the incoming lava bomb hit it. It went up in a sheet of flames and collapsed. They ran for the beach.
The good doctor and I were waiting by the shelters estimating the time it would take for the lava flow to reach us. This was exactly why safety protocols were established and we had ignored them. We were going to be in considerable trouble.
Jake and Carol arrived safely and we began the departure procedures. They babbled about Giant carnivorous dodos and my heart froze. I had been right. What I wouldn’t give for a live specimen. My theories of small island gigantism were vindicated. Dr Rumstead suddenly shouted “The Cages!”
We had to get them back. They couldn’t be left behind and the idea of a trapped creature being immolated by boiling lava was not one to dwell upon. Jake and Carol set off for the one by the stream. Rumstead and I made our way uphill again. The lava was about a mile away and the sea was boiling. When we reached the cage we were surprised to see it crammed full of Dodos. Every part of the cage was filled with grey feathers and a crooning grockling issued forth. “We’ll have to empty the cage” Dr Rumstead yelled. “No. Those rules are suspended by their approaching extermination” I replied, “Get hold of the other end!” The cage was heavy. Dodos are solid birds, which perhaps explains their fate on the dinner table in their day on Mauritius. When we got back to the shelters Jake and Carol’s cage was also bulging with dodos.
Getting the cages into the shelters wasn’t easy, and they had to be upended, to the great displeasure of their occupants. The instrument panel completed its departure sequence without protest and the world went Green.
Attenborough was quiet as we opened the shelter doors and we began to hope that we might have got away with it. Fat Chance!
I rejoiced in the fun I would have examining all the scans and recordings that Jake and Carol had made up on the plateau. At least I would still have proof of my theories. Jake and Carol took me aside and for the first moment I saw that the instrumentation pack was missing. They told me of the attack and their subsequent escape and how it had been impossible to recover the recorders. Around us grockling dodos spread across Attenborough and started nibbling at things they shouldn’t. At any minute now I was going to be in the biggest trouble of my life, and apart from the valuable and engaging Dodos I had nothing to show for it. Jake and Carol were arguing, quietly. “He won’t have it, you know he doesn’t even like to hear the word!” “This is different Jake. It’s worth a try”
They turned to me and Carol presented me with her rucksack. It seemed fairly heavy. The smell of vegetation reached me as I opened the bag. There, nestled in grass were two huge eggs, Grey mottled with green. My heart seemed to stop and tears ran down my face.
“Happy Christmas Professor!” she said.
Charles Braham is a much loved Jodi Taylor fan, old hippy, tabletop RPGamer, Larper and cosplayer.
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