The Legend of Thunderfoot (6 page)

The evening of the fourth day, they came to a place where the arroyo widened. The steep, rock-cluttered walls fell back, making a wide, flat area. Gnarled and twisted, cottonwood trees speckled a path down the center where a stream had once run. Over a mile away, the steep walls of the canyon seemed to close. There were tall, green plants growing in the streambed. Their leaves long and pointed like the yucca, they grew thick and close together. But as he stood watching the valley, he noticed something else.

The floor of the wide arroyo seemed alive. There was movement as far as his eye could see, as if the ground were wriggling and crawling. His head crest rose. Lips behind his beak curled to a smile. “Tarantulas,” he whispered.

Thunder's mother had told him that sometimes there were hundreds upon hundreds of tarantulas born from one hatch. Although these tarantulas were two to three weeks old, and no longer babies, the hatch must have been plentiful. They seemed to be everywhere.

Agile'eka was a little nervous at first. The tarantulas would rock back on their hind legs, raising their front pair as if to fight. Their jawlike chelicera and fangs snapped dangerously. “They're
just trying to scare you,” Thunder assured her.

“But what if they bite me?”

“They can't hurt you. Even the grown ones can't bite through our beak or feathers.” Quick as a wink he grabbed one and swallowed. “See?”

“I don't know.”

He grabbed another, tossed it, and snatched it out of the air while it was still spinning. “If you're still scared, stab them with your beak first. Then eat them.”

They filled their tummies. Even when night fell, a few tarantulas strolled by where they rested on the high ground. With all this juicy food about, the roadrunners didn't even think about water.

All roadrunners must find their own place in the world. Their own territory.
Maybe this is our territory. Mine and Agile'eka's
, Thunder thought.
The valley is wide and long. There's more than enough food for a whole family of roadrunners. There might even be some water at the far end, where all the trees are so thick. Tomorrow I'll find out.

That evening, they talked. She liked the valley, too. They were both too young to start a family. Now was the time to explore and learn and see the world. “But,” she said, smiling, “maybe in a year or
so we could meet here. Who knows?”

When morning came and they set out to see if there was water at the far end of the valley, they found more than they counted on. Thunder moved down one side of the valley and Agile'eka made her way down the other. There was no rush. Always watchful, but at a leisurely pace, they ate as they went toward the place where the valley narrowed.

Thunder smelled water long before he saw it. The sand was flat and smooth. Tall blades of grass sprang up, so thick he couldn't see through them. The leaves were shaped like the yucca, but not hard and stiff. These leaves were so tender and limber they swayed with the gentle breeze. Strange flowers grew at the end of long stalks. They were brown and round like a stick of wood, but kind of fuzzy looking.

As the smell of water became stronger, the brush and grass and trees grew so thick he couldn't see the other side. He wondered if Agile'eka was there. The last time he'd seen her, she was on the opposite side and a ways behind him.

The strange place made him nervous. His keen eyes couldn't see through the thick foliage. Cautious and uneasy, he slowed his pace. Paused between each step to listen. Look. Smell. Feeling
crowded and trapped—almost as he had in the plum thicket—he moved away from the tall grass and climbed toward the place where the walls of the cliff started crowding in on the valley. He found an open spot where he could see. He sat beside a big rock and watched.

To his right, there was water. More than he had ever seen before. For an instant he thought it might be the Great Water where the sun slept at night. Then he saw the other side. It wasn't the Great Water. It was a lake. The tall grass grew out a ways—the base of the stems standing in the water. When it became too deep, the stalks stopped and there was nothing but blue. So much blue that he figured it would take over a hundred running steps just to reach the far side of it. In the distance, where the canyon narrowed, giant boulders had fallen from the cliffs. Sand had washed and filtered in to fill the cracks and form a dam. It was amazing! The only water he'd seen before stood in small puddles or depressions in solid rock or . . .

Suddenly a movement caught his eye. A roadrunner. At the far side of the lake, she ran, stopped, then ran a ways farther. “Thunder?” she cooed. “Thunder? Where are you?”

He stood, ruffled his feathers, and cooed back,
“Over here, Agile'eka. Way up here by this rock.”

Then he saw the others who ran behind her. There were three more roadrunners. They were young—about his age. Two boy roadrunners and another girl.

“I met some new friends,” Agile'eka clattered. “Come let me introduce you.”

He sprang to his feet and sprinted around the lake toward them. He was so excited about meeting new friends he didn't give one thought to his feet. Until . . .

One of the boy roadrunners stopped. He tilted his head one way, then the other. “What's that weird noise?” He looked up at the sky. “There must be a storm coming.”

When Thunder was almost to them, the girl roadrunner's eyes popped wide. She spread her wings and stumbled backward. The other boy veered off to the side and almost fell in the lake.

Then all three—their voices startled and astonished—gasped at the exact same instant, “OH! MY! GOSH!!!”

“Don't do this,” Agile'eka scolded. “You're acting like a baby.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Look at yourself,” she snorted. “You're sitting out here, all alone. In the open. In the noonday sun. At least come and join us in the shade. They're really nice.”

“They made fun of my feet.”

Agile'eka sat down, facing him. “They didn't mean to make fun of your feet. They were just . . . just a little . . . ah . . . startled. Yeah, that's it. Startled.”

Beak high, he turned away and closed his eyes. “Sounds like a storm coming,” he mocked. “No
wonder they named him Thunder. Thunderfoot. That's a perfect name for a bird with feet like those.”

He looked back at her and didn't blink. “And they laughed at me, too.”

Agile'eka leaned closer. “Not all of them. Just one. Rocket. He's kind of a smart aleck. He thinks he's really cool. But Brisk and Speedette are sweet.”

She nudged him with her beak. “Look. When I first saw your feet, it startled me a bit, too. Remember? But when you told me what happened—when I got to know you . . . well, you're a pretty neat guy. I like you. They will, too. If you're nice to them, they'll be nice to you. Just give them a chance.”

“No!”

“Fine!” she huffed, getting to her feet. “Just sit here on your tail feathers. I don't care. I'm going back to the shade.”

It
was
getting hot out in the sun. Besides, for the past hour he'd listened to their cooing and clattering. They seemed to be having a lot of fun visiting and getting to know one another. So . . . Agile'eka had gone only a few steps when Thunder trotted after her. “Oh, all right. But if they make fun of me . . .”

The other girl roadrunner was nice—just as
Agile'eka had said. But she wasn't the brightest star in the sky. He figured that out when Agile'eka introduced them. “This is Speedette of the Sprint Clan,” she said in her most formal clatter. “Speedette, this is Thunder of the Foote Clan.”

The bird looked up at the sky. “Thunder? I didn't hear any thunder.”

“No,” Agile'eka explained. “That's his name. Thunder.”

“Where? Is there lightning, too? Is it going to storm?”

“No, you don't understand. His name is Thunder. Thunder of the Foote Clan. This bird, here.”

Speedette stopped looking at the sky and smiled at him. “Oh,” she said with a giggle. “I'm sorry. Nice to meet you. My name is Speedette.”

Then she looked back at the clear, blue sky. “You think it's going to rain?”

Agile'eka and Thunder looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Then Agile'eka introduced him to the other two. They sat in the shade and visited, Speedette still watching for clouds in the sky.

Brisk was of the Keen Clan. A month or two
older than the rest of them, he had been born far to the west of this place. When Thunder asked if he'd seen the Great Water where the sun sleeps at night, he said he hadn't. But his father had told him of it, just as Thunder's father had told him. He
had
seen the saguaro cactus and the Joshua trees, though.

The others were fascinated by his description. Speedette came from the east—even farther east than Agile'eka. Thunder asked her if she had ever seen the strange grass with the fuzzy tree limb-looking flowers. She said that they were called cattails. She added that there were a lot of them in the streams and ponds where she came from. Then she looked up at the sky. “It doesn't smell like rain. But if there's thunder . . .”

The one named Rocket yawned and preened his feathers. That's about all he'd done since they first sat to visit, always fluffing and trying to look bigger and stronger than he really was. When Thunder walked up with Agile'eka, he'd made a high-pitched clattering. It sounded like a giggle to Thunder, but he pretended not to hear.

After spending some time listening to him and watching him preen his feathers, Thunder decided that the only thing Rocket was interested in was
Rocket. They went their separate ways when the sun dropped behind the western crest of the valley. They filled up on tarantulas, and Thunder chased down a banded gecko. Just before dark, two crows swooped into the valley. They came from below the dam where the gorge was narrow. Cawing and squawking, each swooped down, snatched up a tarantula and, still making a racket, flew off again.

First thing the next morning, the crows were back. Their cawing and jabbering woke the roadrunners from a peaceful sleep. But this time there were five crows, instead of just two. Others must have heard all the racket they made, because before they knew it there were ten. Fourteen. Nineteen. So many that even Brisk, who was older and wiser, couldn't keep count. Their caws and calls were almost deafening.

Fearing that there wouldn't be any tarantulas left for breakfast if they waited any longer, the five roadrunners left their high ridge to feed. Rocket raced ahead of everyone else, gobbling up the hairy-legged, fuzzy spiders as fast as he could. Thunder ate just what he needed, then returned to the shade of the rocks on the high knoll. Speedette joined him, then Agile'eka and Brisk. Rocket came
waddling in, stuffed clear to his head crest. He was so full he could barely walk.

The crows left during the heat of the day. All five roadrunners rested in the shade. As it started to cool, Thunder and Brisk walked to the cattails for a drink. The water was warm, but it tasted good.

Rocket came trotting down about the time they started up the hill. “I ate too much,” he groaned. He took a sip of water, then another. “Let's run or something. My tummy doesn't feel too good.”

“Maybe you need to rest instead,” Brisk suggested.

Rocket preened his wing feathers with his beak. “Nah. I need some exercise. Tell you what. I'll race you around the lake. Bet I can win.”

With that he flapped his wings and ran in place. His feet moved so fast it sounded like a buzz on the sand instead of thumping footsteps. “Sure,” Brisk said, shrugging his wings. “How about around that big cottonwood tree at the end of the cattails, across the dam, and back to the girls?”

“How about you, Thunderfoot?” Rocket called as Thunder strolled back toward the rocks.

Thunderfoot felt his head crest rise. His feet clinched the sand. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. “No, thanks,” he answered
calmly. “Think I'll rest a few more minutes instead.”

“Ah, come on,” Rocket chided. “You're not scared of losing, are you?”

Thunder ignored him and kept walking. “Maybe later,” he said.

From the rocks, Thunder and the girls watched the race. Rocket led most of the way. But just after they crossed the dam, he had to stop and throw up. Thunder knew it was because he'd drunk too much water after overeating. Brisk was sitting comfortably in the shade when Rocket finally got back.

Feathers bristling and walking stiff-legged, he stomped up the hill toward them. “I want a rematch,” he demanded.

Brisk shook his head. “Not now. I'm tired.”

Still bristled up, Rocket turned to Thunder. “How about you . . .” He hesitated, looking down at Thunder's feet. “ . . . Fatfoot?” Then, pretending it was just a slip of the tongue, he added, “Sorry, I meant Thunder . . . foot.”

Thunder glared up at him. He could see the smirk on Rocket's yellow lips behind the sharp beak.
If you're nice to them, they'll be nice to you.
Agile'eka's words seemed to echo in his ears.
Just give them a chance.
As far as Thunder was
concerned, Rocket had had his chance. He couldn't decide whether to hop up and kick the snot out of him with his big feet or . . .

He eased up. Smiled. “Any time you're ready.”

Rocket got a head start. He ran first,
then
yelled, “Go!”

It caught Thunder off guard. It made him mad. But as he chased after Rocket, the anger turned toward himself. He should have expected it from a bird like Rocket. He should have been ready.

They raced up the bank of the dry streambed. There were fallen branches and thick brush near the water. Thunder tripped a couple of times, but he didn't fall. Still, by the time they crossed the stream and started up the far side, he was way behind.