Ospreys in Danger Page 2

  “Oops, sorry!”

  Shilo reached over and flicked a switch on Cricket’s reel. “Now try,” she said.

  Cricket’s next cast launched the hook. “Yay!” she cheered.

  A gray jay swooped down onto a perch beside her. He tilted his head and winked at her, begging for a handout.

  “Catch anything yet?” Tyler asked when he joined them at the edge of the pond.

  Cricket shook her head.

  “Did the crew tell you how the fire started?” Shilo asked.

  “It was the ospreys’ fault, all right. They built the nest too big, and sticks hung over the sides. One of those sticks probably touched both power lines and started the fire,” Tyler explained as he cast his line far out into the pond.

  The gray jay suddenly took off. A high-pitched whistle cut through the quiet, and the kids turned to see the osprey diving at the Fortis crew. The man in the bucket quickly pulled a metal shield over his head, protecting himself from the bird’s vicious talons. “Wow, she really doesn’t like them messing with her nest!” Shilo said.

  “There’s almost nothing left of it,” Cricket said. “Tyler, did the crew say how they are going to rebuild the nest?”

  Tyler shook his head. “They’re working on getting the power hooked up again for the village.”

  “But the osprey chicks need their nest back right away,” Cricket said.

  “Hey, look.” Tyler pointed out over the pond.

  The osprey circled high above the water. She folded her wings close to her body and dove straight down. At the very last second, she lifted her head and plunged feet first into the pond, disappearing in the splash. Then she rose, her wings flapping heavily. She struggled as though something was pulling her back into the water.

  “She’s got a fish!” Tyler yelled.

  “Cool!”

  “Wow! Look how big it is!” Cricket said. She felt a tug on her fishing line. “Hey, I’ve got one too!”

  Chapter Five

  The osprey chicks were hungry. Their squawks echoed all the way down the hall from Cricket’s bedroom.

  Shilo grabbed a fish from Cricket’s backpack and held it over the box. The chicks stopped squawking immediately. When Shilo dropped the fish into the box, the chicks pecked at it once or twice, then squawked again.

  “Why aren’t they eating it?” Shilo asked.

  Cricket frowned. “Maybe they can’t,” she said. “Maybe the mother osprey drops the food into their mouths, just like robins do.”

  “So we need to cut it up.”

  Cricket ran downstairs. When she returned with a knife and tongs, she cut the fish into tiny pieces. Shilo held a chunk over the chicks, but they didn’t open their beaks. One chick reached out and grabbed the piece of fish, swallowing it whole.

  Tyler walked into Cricket’s bedroom. “Do they like it?”

  “They love it! I hope we have enough,” Shilo said.

  “But what if they start to think you’re their mom?” Tyler asked. “If they get used to people, they won’t want to go back to their nest.”

  Shilo stepped back so the chicks couldn’t see her. “Maybe we could hide behind something when we feed them,” she suggested.

  “I have an idea,” Tyler said, dashing to his room. He returned with a giant poster board that he propped up on the dresser.

  The cardboard completely blocked the chicks from view. Within minutes, they were silent.

  “You can thank me later,” Tyler said as he headed out the door.

  The girls waited for a few minutes, listening. “Do you think they’re okay?” Shilo asked.

  They peeked around the cardboard. The three ospreys were piled in a corner with their heads resting on each other. Their eyes—and beaks—were closed.

  “Finally!” Cricket whispered. “I was beginning to think they never slept.”

  The girls tiptoed toward the door. Suddenly, the overhead light snapped on. The radio on Cricket’s desk burst to life.

  “Ahh!” Cricket dove for the radio and smacked the Snooze button. Shilo swiped at the light switch.

  “Cricket! Tyler! The power’s back on!” Mrs. McKay called from the bottom of the stairs.

  “What are you girls doing? I smell something fishy here. Like, really fishy,” she said, covering her nose.

  “Shh, Mom. The ospreys are sleeping,” Cricket whispered.

  Mrs. McKay lowered her voice. “You need to make a plan, Cricket. The whole village has power, so you’ll be going to school in the morning and I’ll be working at the post office.”

  Cricket and Shilo looked at each other in dismay.

  “We’re going to need a lot more than two fish, Cricket.”

  The girls were used to the wind in Waterton. It blew almost constantly. That afternoon the wind pushed the girls all the way up the hill along the pathway out of the village. They parked their bikes beside the picnic table and dropped their backpacks.

  “Hey, look, the Fortis crew is still here,” Shilo said. The green service truck was parked beside the power pole.

  Cricket frowned. “What did they do with the nest? It’s completely gone!”

  “Do you think they forgot the chicks need to come back?”

  “I dunno, but we better find out.”

  The foreman waved as the girls approached. “Hello, Jenna,” he said. “Are you looking for your dad? He just left. Something about a porcupine in someone’s tent, I think.”

  “Hi, Mr. Sprague,” Cricket said. “This is my friend Shilo. She helped me rescue the osprey chicks last night.”

  Mr. Sprague nodded to Shilo. “That was good work, girls. How are the birds doing?”

  “They’re good, but they sure eat a lot of fish,” Cricket said. At the top of the power pole a Fortis worker was attaching a big triangular piece of fiberglass to the crossbar.

  “What is that?” Cricket asked.

  “That’s a new anti-nesting device,” Mr. Sprague explained. “It covers the top of the power pole so birds can’t land.”

  “But where are the birds going to build their nest?” Shilo asked. “This pole has been their home for years.”

  Mr. Sprague took off his hard hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, girls, but we can’t let the ospreys rebuild their nest on the pole. It’s just too dangerous. If you can come up with another idea, I’d be glad to hear it.”

  Shilo and Cricket looked at each other. How were they going to reunite the chicks with their parents if they didn’t have a nest?

  Chapter Six

  “Hey, Cricket. Everything okay in the bird nursery this morning?” Shilo swung her backpack over her shoulder and joined Cricket on the sidewalk.

  “Yup. The chicks fell asleep as soon as I fed them. I left some chunks of fish in the box, so they should be okay until school gets out.”

  The girls headed down the block toward Waterton Elementary School. Tyler caught up to them.

  “We need to come up with a way to rebuild that nest,” Shilo said. “Why do you think they built it on the power pole anyway?”

  Cricket shrugged. “The trees might be too far away from the pond.”

  “The power pole is really secure too,” Tyler added.

  The girls stared at him. “Secure from what?” Cricket asked.

  “Oh, snakes and raccoons and stuff. Predators like that might eat the eggs before they hatch. And the pole is really sturdy—I mean, it was before it caught on fire.”

  “So a pole is a good thing for a nest,” Shilo said.

  Tyler nodded. “Sure. Except for the power lines attached to it.”

  “What if the nest was up higher, maybe on a platform above the lines?” Cricket suggested.

  “Yeah, or lower, so sticks wouldn’t hang over and start a fire,” Shilo said.

  “Or even on a separate pole.” Cricket was getting excited by their ideas, but just then the bell rang, and they had to run to class.

  At recess, Tyler and Will, his best friend in grade six, ha
d something to show the girls. The boys were grinning, and Tyler held something behind his back.

  “We’re building stuff in Science—” Tyler began.

  “Mr. Tanaka wanted us to build a bridge,” Will interrupted.

  “Well, we built a nesting platform for the ospreys instead,” Tyler finished. He held out a model built of popsicle sticks. A flat platform perched on top of a popsicle-stick pole. A ring of twigs was glued to the top.

  “That’s awesome, you guys!” Cricket turned the model in her hands and examined it closely. “It’s as sturdy as the power pole but without the lines attached.”

  “We can nail some branches down to start the nest, so it won’t blow off,” Will said.

  Cricket nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

  Other students grew curious about what they were building—and why.

  “Who’s going to build the real platform?”

  “It’s going to cost a lot of money.”

  “And take a lot of machinery. That’s a big pole.”

  They’re right, Cricket thought. We’re going to need some help—and fast.

  “Why don’t we write a letter to the Fortis crew?” Shilo said. “They have the equipment we would need. And the foreman, Mr. Sprague, said he wanted to hear our ideas.”

  “Yeah! We could all write letters!” The girls’ classmates nodded to each other.

  It looks great, Cricket thought. But will the Fortis crew think so? Even more important—will the ospreys think so?

  Chapter Seven

  On Friday, Shilo helped Cricket feed the chicks before school.

  “They’ve grown so much, I think they’re going to jump right out of the box,” Shilo said.

  “We have to get them back to their parents soon, but Mr. Sprague hasn’t said anything about our idea,” Cricket said.

  The boys had presented their model to the crew foreman the day before, and the girls had given him seventeen letters from all the grade-three students at Waterton Elementary School.

  “I guess we keep feeding them.” Shilo picked up the last piece of fish with her tongs. “But you’re going to need a lot more fish tonight. I’ve got track practice after school, so maybe Tyler can help.”

  “Maybe.” Cricket felt a worried knot grow in her stomach.

  The boys had stayed late after school to finish their science project for Mr. Tanaka, and Shilo was at track practice. Cricket’s mom was working at the post office, and her dad was fixing a fence up at Red Rock Canyon. Cricket was on her own.

  She made a snack, packed up Tyler’s fishing gear and headed to the pond. Maybe I can talk to Mr. Sprague some more, she thought. Maybe the crew has already started building the platform!

  Cricket pedaled faster, eager to get to the pond.

  But as she pulled up to the picnic table, she was alone. No Mr. Sprague. No crew. No FortisAlberta trucks. Cricket scanned the treetops—no osprey either.

  It took a couple of tries before her hook landed out in the pond. Her first cast hooked the tree behind her. Her second cast snagged the reeds at the edge of the pond. Finally, her third cast sailed far out over the water, where it landed with a plunk.

  “Yay!” Cricket tugged and reeled in the line. Nothing. Not even a nibble.

  The hook was bare. The plastic worm had fallen off or been stolen by a sneaky fish. She reloaded the hook and cast again. And again. After seven tries, she still had not caught a fish.

  Cricket sat on the picnic bench and hung her head. No fish, no ospreys, no crew—no friends.

  Wink—wink? The same gray jay from before perched on the end of the table. He tilted his head and blinked. Wink—wink?

  “Okay, maybe one friend.” Cricket wiped her cheeks. “But I have to go, buddy. I have to get home before dinner.”

  Several trucks pulling fishing boats passed her on the road. At the main dock in the village, men worked at the washstand, cleaning their catches. Cricket watched them swipe large pieces of fish off the stand into buckets below.

  Cricket’s heart jumped. That’s not garbage, she thought. I know somebody who’ll eat that!

  The fishermen were surprised but happily gave Cricket the scraps of fish. She held her breath and scooped the biggest pieces from the buckets. There was enough to fill both of her plastic bags!

  When Cricket got home, she could hear the chicks squawking in her room. She opened the door and froze. The floor was a mess. Brown fluff and osprey poop were everywhere!

  Cricket closed the door. Two of the chicks were under her bed. The third was still in the box.

  “Tyler!” Cricket yelled. “Come quick!”

  Tyler flung open the door. He looked at the mess and quickly closed the door behind himself. “They got out, didn’t they?”

  “Help me get them out from under the bed,” Cricket said. She grabbed a butterfly net from her closet and crouched down.

  “Wow, they’ve really changed,” Tyler said as he nudged the chicks toward Cricket’s net.

  The ospreys had lost their brown fluff and were now covered with black, woolly feathers. Their gray-blue legs seemed stronger as they hopped out of Tyler’s reach. Their beaks looked as sharp as ever.

  “They’re starting to look more like birds,” Tyler said.

  “Yeah,” Cricket said. “I just hope we don’t have to teach them how to fly.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Where’s your dad going, Cricket?” Shilo asked. It was Saturday afternoon, and the kids were biking up the long hill. Warden McKay drove past them, heading in the same direction. He flashed the orange strobes at them and waved.

  Cricket pedaled faster. They rounded the last corner, then pulled on their brakes in surprise.

  Three FortisAlberta trucks had driven through the grass to the far side of the pond. Two of the trucks had their buckets extended to the top of a new pole, where the crew was attaching a large platform.

  Cricket, Shilo and Tyler broke into cheers.

  “They did it! They built it just like our model!” Tyler said.

  The kids leaned their bikes against the picnic table, dropped their backpacks and helmets and raced over to Warden McKay.

  “Hey, kids, you’re just in time,” he said. “The crew wants to secure some branches to the platform to get the ospreys started on a nest. Can you gather deadfall for the crew?”

  “You bet!” Tyler and Shilo took off into the trees and searched the ground for fallen branches.

  Cricket scanned the treetops for the ospreys. She hadn’t seen the pair at all yesterday while she was fishing. What if they’ve given up? What if they’ve abandoned the chicks and started a new nest somewhere else?

  Warden McKay put an arm around her shoulders. “They’ll come back, Cricket, don’t you worry.”

  As the Fortis crew lowered the buckets to load the branches, they heard loud honking. A Canada goose swooped down and landed in the unfinished nest. He honked and opened his wings wide.

  “He’s claiming the nest!” Tyler cried. “Canada geese steal osprey nests all the time!”

  The kids turned to Warden McKay. “We have to do something, Dad,” Cricket pleaded. “We can’t let all this hard work be stolen by a lazy goose.”

  Warden McKay nodded. The crew rose up in the buckets. The goose hissed and opened his wings wide. The men waved their arms and shouted until the goose took off.

  “Whew, that’s a relief,” Cricket said.

  Warden McKay pointed to the trees behind her. “Now it’s up to them.”

  Cricket turned to see both ospreys watching from the treetops behind her. They had come back!

  “We need to go get the chicks, Dad,” Cricket said.

  Warden McKay nodded. “Let’s take the truck.”

  They left Tyler to help the crew and headed back to the village. At the house, Warden McKay handed Cricket and Shilo a pair of heavy leather gloves each and a canvas bag.

  “Dad, how do you know the ospreys won’t reject the chicks?” Cricket asked. “If they smell like h
umans, maybe their parents won’t want them anymore.”

  Both girls looked at Warden McKay, their eyes wide with worry.

  “An animal like a fox or rabbit might reject a baby you had taken, but not ospreys,” Warden McKay said. “In fact, sometimes older chicks beg for food at the wrong nest, and those adults will feed them.”

  “They don’t even know their own babies?” Cricket asked.

  “Well, I don’t think they would feed a gosling, but they don’t seem to mind feeding another osprey baby.”

  Cricket nodded. Maybe their plan would succeed.

  After a few tries, the girls captured the chicks and climbed back into the truck. They headed back to the pond and bumped across the grass to where the Fortis crew stood on the ground, watching the sky.

  “It looks like the nest is finished,” Cricket said.

  Tyler ran over as Warden McKay parked the truck. “The geese keep coming back. We chased them away twice!”

  They jumped out of the truck and joined the crew.

  “Who’s going to release the birds?” Mr. Sprague asked.

  Warden McKay hesitated.

  “Can I do it, Dad? Please?” Cricket asked.

  Warden McKay smiled and nodded.

  Cricket’s heart raced as Mr. Sprague handed her a hard hat. Her dad lifted her into the bucket with a Fortis crewman. He wore a hard hat and heavy leather gloves like Cricket. He also held the large metal shield to protect them from diving attacks. Cricket held on tightly as the bucket trembled and rocked, lifting them up. She spotted the adult ospreys in the treetops not far away. The bucket inched forward until it was right against the nest.

  “Okay, you can release the birds, Cricket,” the crewman said. “I’ll keep a lookout.”

  She lifted the canvas bag into the nest and the three chicks tumbled out. They popped up as though surprised at their new surroundings.