Part 9 (1/2)

It might be said that, having undertaken to raise turkeys, we had to expect them to act like turkeys. But there were other interruptions in our evenings where our share of responsibility was not so plain. For example, one wet evening in early June we had kindled a little fire and I had brought the lamp forward. The pump was quiescent, the little turkeys were all tucked up in the turkey equivalent for bed, the farm seemed to be cuddling down into itself for the night. We sat for a moment luxuriously regarding the flames, listening to the sighing of the wind, feeling the sweet damp air as it blew in through the open windows. I was considering which book it should be and at last rose to possess myself of two or three.

Shhh! said Jonathan, a warning finger raised.

I stood listening.

I dont hear anything, I said.

Shh! he repeated. There!

This time, indeed, I heard faint bird-notes.

Young robins! He sprang up and made for the back door with long strides.

I peered out through the window of the orchard room, but saw only the reflection of the firelight and the lamp. Suddenly I heard Jonathan whistle and I ran to the back porch. Blackness pressed against my eyes.

Where are you? I called into it.

The whistle again, quite near me, apparently out of the air.

Bring a lantern, came a whisper.

I got it and came back and down the steps to the path, holding up my light and peering about in search of the voice.

Where are you? I cant see you at all.

Right herelookhereup! The voice was almost over my head.

I searched the dark ma.s.ses of the treeoh, yes! the lantern revealed the heel of a shoe in a crotch, and above,yes, undoubtedly, the rest of Jonathan, stretched out along a limb.

Oh! What are you doing up there?

Get me a long stickhoeclothes-poleanything I can poke with. Quick! The cats up here. I can hear her, but I cant see her.

I found the rake and reached it up to him. From the dark beyond him came a distressed mew.

Now the lantern. Hang it on the teeth. He drew it up to him, then, rake in one hand and lantern in the other, proceeded to squirm out along the limb.

Now I see her.

I saw her tooa huddle of yellow, crouched close.

Ill have her in a minute. Sh.e.l.l either have to drop or be caught.

And in fact this distressing dilemma was already becoming plain to the marauder herself. Her mewings grew louder and more frequent. A few more contortions brought the climber nearer his victim. A little judicious urging with the rake and she was within reach. The rake came down to me, and a long, wild mew announced that Jonathan had clutched.

I dont see how youre going to get down, I said, mopping the rain-mist out of my eyes.

Watch me, panted the contortionist.

I watched a curious ma.s.s descend the tree, the lantern, swinging and jerking, fitfully illumined the pair, and I could see, now a knee and an ear, now a hand and a yellow furry shape, now a white collar, nose, and chin. There was a last, long, scratching slide. I s.n.a.t.c.hed the lantern, and Jonathan stood beside me, holding by the scruff of her neck a very much frazzled yellow cat. We returned to the porch where her victims wereone alive, in a basket, two dead, beside it, and Jonathan, kneeling, held the cats nose close to the little bodies while he boxed her earsonce, twice; remonstrant mews rose wild, and with a desperate twist the culprit backed out under his arm and leaped into the blackness.