The following morning Nick and Jonas awoke to find that Izzy was gone. They’d camped within an outcropping of rocks overlooking the Bitterroot Valley leading to the Flathead reservation.
I knew where Izzy was because I’d flown to the camp early in the morning looking for her. After all, I am Zasper, the scout and must keep the girls at home up to date. All the cows, including the Angus herd, were agitated. The funny thing is that none knew who Roscoe or Willy was. Willy had lost his dog Roscoe and had set out to find him and, in the process, became lost himself. They sensed something was quite amiss because Izzy and Nick were gone.
First, I flew from the dairy and arrived at the campsite shortly after sunrise. Grackles are not the fastest flyers, you know. I flew down and perched atop one of the jutting rocks. Nick and Jonas were asleep, and the horses were still hobbled. I had a hunch about this. Everyone knew Izzy could sniff out a trail and any search and rescue dog. If I knew Izzy, she’d picked up the scent and wouldn’t wait around. Perhaps she sensed a danger that the men didn’t.
When I caught up with Izzy, she had inched her way down a steep and narrow ravine, sometimes sliding in the loose dirt and rock. I decided to fly ahead and see if I could spot Willy or Rosco for her.
When Izzy reached the bottom of the ravine, she ran through the leaves into the woods, following what looked like a deer trail to me. I dropped low and followed. She knew I was there and gave me a hearty bark but dipped into a creek and decided to stop for a drink of water. I decided to do the same. Better to prepare. Neither knew how far we would have to travel that day to find Willy and, hopefully, Rosco.
Izzy decided to lay in the water and cool off as she drank, but after a short time, she rose, shook off a shower of drips, and scampered onto the path on the other side of
the river. I saw that she was rushing into a thick forest of trees and decided it was a good time to go back and see if I could get Nick and Jonas to follow me. Best, I thought, we should all stick together.
It took me a few minutes to fly back up to the summit. When I got there, Nick and Jonas were gone.
I followed the trail back along the ridge and spotted them. Slight dust plumes led me to them. I decided that a dive-bombing screech would be my best bet to get their attention. Jonas saw me first and pointed up.
Nick smiled and said, “There’s Zasper. That’s great. He must know where Izzy is.”
“I don’t think that Izzy’s lost, Uncle. You know she is very persistent when she gets on to something.”
The horses trotted along the ridge, and the men looked for a way down into the valley. Every once-in-awhile Jonas called Izzy’s name, but by now, she was deep in the forest.
Out of frustration, not wanting them to miss the trail, I perched on a rock right above the steep rocky path leading down to the forest and screeched up a storm.
“Come on, you slackers, I’m doing all the work, and I can’t make this any more obvious.”
Nick finally pointed. I knew he saw it, so I flew on, not wanting to lose Izzy’s trail.
Swooping back down, back into the forest, I traveled the same path for a long time, meandering within the wooded dark woods. Fortunately, the trail was dark, moist and clear. Izzy finally stopped to rest, as did I. I perched on a branch above where she had lain down. We were both tired. She was hot; I could tell with all the panting. Izzy put her head down and closed her eyes. I guess I did, too; gosh, my wings were aching.
Then we both heard it. A crying out. A boy. It had to be Willy. Izzy’s ears perked, but she didn’t move for a moment. I think that she was listening for the exact location. I have to say, we grackles can see like a hawk, but when it comes to hearing and smelling, those Bernese dogs have a smell and hearing like nobody’s business.
The two of us raced on. Weaving in and out, we stopped dead. It was Willy, and he was in a tree—halfway up.
Back at the dairy farm Gertrude and I stopped eating and stood at the fence.
The Sheriff’s car was there, and Ellen held her newborn girl, Tyler.
It looked to me like the Sheriff was explaining, or trying to explain to Ellen, why they hadn’t formed a posse to look for Willy and Rosco. Now, it seemed Nick and Jonas were lost as well. No one had seen or heard from them in two days.
Gertrude said, “Ellen’s not happy with that Sheriff, Selma. She’s downright mad!”
“She has a right to be,” I said. “At least we know where they are because of Zasper, but she’s probably concerned for Nick, what with a new baby—remember when Nick broke his leg?”
“What can we do? We’re dairy cows, for grain sake?”
I looked at her, as pretty as she was with her brown spots. “Why don’t we get all the cows together, even the Angus, and put our heads together? Maybe we’ll come up with a way to help.”
“What about the bull?”
“I guess so. He can be nice when he wants to be.”
“Yes—long as he doesn’t start poking around, I guess it would be okay. No reason to leave one out.”
My sisters and I gathered all of our cows as I was to make a pronouncement. Both
herds seemed to be in an agreeable mood. I saw some Holstein girls chatting with the Angus and vice versa.
I took a step forward. “To all of you, we have a collective problem. Our Nick is gone with his nephew Jonas to search for a young man and his dog. But Nick and Jonas have not returned, nor their horses.”
One of the Angus girls said, “Holy cow, how are we to do anything about such a problem?”
Others piped in, “Yeah. How…where are they?”
I told them they were some miles away at Eyes Like a Bird Canyon.
There was a great deal of grumbling, mooing and general clamor. No one could figure out what to do. Was the entire herd going to go on a cattle call looking for all of these people, even if they could? And how would they?
Then, as usual, the unexpected.
The bull. The heavy-set Angus named Chester waded in, parting the entire herd. His big head bobbing, he came up and stopped before me. Nose to nose.
I’ll say, from one cow to another; I was a bit edgy about this. Was he going to demand that I make him leader of this, kind of, one united herd? I waited.
“I’ll go,” he said. His big lower jaw dropped again, and he said it one more time.
“I’ll go.”
“Okay,” I said—no reason to dispute that.
***
Back on the trail, a mountain lion had Willy up in a tree. He was two branches up, and the mountain lion couldn’t reach him. Still. Scary for anyone.
I watched Izzy. She sat still and could do nothing. If I
started screeching or flying around, what might happen? I wanted to tell Izzy to stay put, but I couldn’t.
I looked back, and Izzy tore out of the trees, barking wildly and jumping up on her hind legs. She charged. The mountain lion swiped with its big tan paw, snarling. From the tree, Willy yelled at her. “Get back, Izzy. Wait for help.”
I had to fly off to get help; there was nothing else I could do.
***
The End Until Episode Four Next Month.
