The High-Skies Adventures of Blue Jay the Pirate

by Scott Nash

  Bellamy hung in the air at the end of Henry’s sword for a moment, as if Henry were holding him up as a prize, triumphant.

  “Dirty stinkin’ sparra!” Bellamy coughed.

  Henry drew out his blade, and Bellamy fell from the sky into the icy water below, where he sank dead to the world into the blue darkness.

  The fury of the sparrow horde had the remaining crows in complete disarray. “Retreat! Retreat!” cawed a frantic Avery. As one, the crows turned to fly away, leaving their fallen brethren behind, and the unrelenting sparrows drove the crows well past Black Point, deep into the woods. The crows were completely overwhelmed and scattered throughout the forest. As the cawing of the crows faded, the pirates cheered.

  Gabriel landed triumphantly on shore, looking fierce and majestic. His mates greeted him with pats and with embraces around his legs.

  “Well done, lad!” shouted Henry. “I don’t think those crows are coming back anytime soon. At least, not while you’re here.”

  The determined goose did not hear his friend, nor could he comprehend the crew’s joy. His only thought was for his captain, and he strode to where Blue Jay lay on the beach.

  Junco, Poppa Fox, Blackcap, and Creeper were already at the side of their dazed and disoriented captain, who was lying with his head propped up in Junco’s wing. “We’ve won, Captain!” Junco cried, in an effort to rally his strength. “The crows have retreated! We won!”

  Jay’s response was muted and weak. “Well done, mates. We’ve won this round for certain.” Jay struggled to sit up and fell back again. “Damn! Me wing!” he groaned. “Help me up, will ya, mates?”

  Junco called to Chuck and Thrasher, and together they helped Blue Jay to his feet and propped him up, wobbling, between them. Blackcap fashioned a temporary splint for Jay’s wing from the shaft of a broken metal sword, wrapping it with his neckerchief.

  “Crayee!” Jay said, trying to focus. “That Bellamy packs a wallop!” He pulled away from Chuck and Thrasher. “All right now, gents, let me loose. I need to walk this off.” Chuck and Thrasher carefully let go of their hold, and Jay staggered over to Gabriel. He patted Gabriel’s side soberly and murmured, “Well done, godling.”

  Jay then began to look about at the ground, preoccupied. “Ah! Look here, will you?” In the sand at his feet was the distinct impression of a crow’s footprints and a dark trail of blood leading to the forest.

  “Teach!” said Henry. “So he’s still alive.”

  “Evidently,” said Jay, “because this is where I left him.”

  “We’ll find him!” said Henry. “He can’t have gone far.”

  “No,” Jay said, shaking his head. “We have more important tasks before us.” He looked at the sky. A breeze had blown up and was now hissing steadily through the trees, rocking them back and forth. “We must get back to the Grosbeak,” he said, then turned to Gabriel with a wince. “Gabriel, would you be so kind as to carry your captain back to his ship?”

  Gabriel gladly complied. “With honor, Captain.”

  The Grosbeak was a wreck. The ship’s woven hull was torn open on both sides, exposing her ribs and fragments of her remaining cargo. Fortunately, all of the masts were intact, but many of the yardarms and spars had been snapped off and would need to be splinted and lashed together. Some of the lower sails and rigging were hung up in nearby branches, the lines tangled. Fortunately, the sails were not badly torn.

  Snipe ordered his birds to focus on repairs to the rigging. “We’ll pretty up the rest of her once we get back to Oak’s Eye,” he said, “but for now these holes are a blessing to us. We’ll use ’em to toss out any extra weight!” So toss they did, the work made faster with the help of the sparrows. Knowing they could not return to their beloved Briarloch, the sparrows decided that they, too, should migrate. They realized that the crows would be an increasing problem for them. In addition, it was inevitable that the crows would inform the Thrushians about what had transpired at the forge and Echo Lake. The colonial army would then certainly be descending on the forest. They would not look kindly on the fact that sparrows had aided a band of pirates. The sparrows agreed to join with the pirates on their long journey south.

  It was painful for all the sparrows to leave their home, but perhaps most especially for old Poppa Fox. He had once again threatened to stay behind, but at Jay’s behest Crossbill offered the innkeeper the position of ship’s cook. “We need us a cook, and yer the captain’s favorite cacher!” said Crossbill.

  “Me, a cook on a pirates’ ship?” said Poppa Fox, flattered by the offer. “Well, I suppose someone needs to feed all these sparrows, eh?” he said, finally agreeing to join the ship.

  Many of the younger sparrows were beside themselves with excitement at signing up with pirates. Hillary, too, had been transformed by the events of the last few days. For the first time in his life, he felt needed and useful. And then there was the excitement! He had also grown enamored of the pirates and was surprised to discover that deep down he was an adventurer at heart. He had even developed a certain piratelike swagger and confidence that endeared him to the rest of the crew. Despite the fact that he was nearly blind, the mole had no trouble feeling his way on board and, given his strength and skills in building, he was quite useful in the ship’s rehabilitation.

  Snipe ordered the sparrows to throw out the heavy equipment in the galley and nearly every box and crate deemed unnecessary, including many of the crew’s personal items.

  “The more we throw overboard, the less we’ll need to kedge later, mates!” said Snipe. “And let’s be quick about it! I don’t want to spend another night in this godforsaken place.”

  Despite his wounds, Jay had insisted on being seated on the upper deck to supervise the repairs. He propped himself against the rail, and from there he called out orders to the crew. But as the day progressed, Jay became increasingly tired. He asked Crossbill and Snipe to take over supervising the repairs. The captain dozed off while the pirates sang as they worked:

  Weave away! Weave away!

  Tomorrow we will thieve away!

  Weave away! Thieve away, HO!

  Despite their best efforts, the work was too great to be completed in a single day. By late in the afternoon, it became clear that the pirates would have to spend another night in the forest. As the light faded and the cold began to settle in, Crossbill and Snipe decided that they needed to consult with Blue Jay, who was sound asleep on the upper deck. He looked alarmingly frail.

  “Excuse us, Captain,” said Crossbill.

  Jay did not stir.

  “Errr, Captain, sir?” said Snipe.

  Again, no response.

  In a panic, the quartermaster grabbed the captain’s good shoulder. “Captain! Wake up!”

  Jay startled awake and wrestled a bit with his coat. “Mr. Snipe!” he mumbled stupidly as he woke. “Crayee, it’s getting dark! Why aren’t we sailing?”

  “We’ve lost the day, sir,” said the quartermaster. “The repairs are too much and the crew is spent.”

  “Cry-ee-aye, too much,” said Jay dejectedly.

  “Since our stores have been depleted, I’ll order the crew to take supper down below,” said Snipe. “They’ll have to scrape up what they can find and be back on board in an hour, before the sun goes down completely and the mammals begin their hunt.”

  “Yes, yes, you do that, Snipe. . . .” said Jay distractedly, looking up at the treetops still swaying in the wind. “Crayee, gents, look at them trees dance! I’m afraid we’re in for a wild night.”

  “It’ll be a rough one for sure, maybe in more ways than one,” said Crossbill. “How shall we prepare the crew, Captain? Captain?” Jay had fallen back to sleep.

  “They’ll need some sleep after today’s events,” said Snipe. “What do you think the chances are that Avery and the rest of Teach’s mob will come back to attack us tonight?”

  “I think there is a strong possibility,” said Crossbill.

  “Perhaps,” said Snipe. �
��You might be right. But, then again, there’s a part of me that thinks they won’t bother.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Crossbill.

  “Avery would expect us to be on guard all night,” said Snipe. “He also knows that we have a goose and a bunch of fighting sparrows on our side.”

  “He’ll attack tomorrow while we’re kedging,” said Crossbill.

  “I’m sure of it,” said Snipe.

  “Nevertheless, we must be on our guard tonight!” said Crossbill.

  “As sure as the crew needs rest for tomorrow’s ordeal,” said Snipe. “Here’s what we’ll do: we’ll split the watches in two, half the crew at arms for half the night while the other half sleeps. But tell those who are to sleep to keep their weapons handy . . . just in case.”

  “Agreed,” said Crossbill.

  Just as Crossbill predicted, it was a rough night. In spite of the arrangements, the crew took little or no sleep. They were all but certain that they were going to be attacked and killed as they slept. The steadily blowing wind caused the trees to crack and groan long into the night. Every sound, every click, every snap might be the sound of a crow preparing to ambush. The night itself seemed to be made of the dark wings of countless crows enveloping the ship.

  The experience was an ordeal for Henry, who while standing guard was brought back to the horrible night his friend Billy had been killed. The cold north wind howled, and with it came the first threat of frost. Henry tugged on his collar, ruffled his feathers, and drew his beak down against the night. He imagined Billy by his side, snoring loudly. Then he heard it — the sound of wings. Something was flying toward him in the dark! He would not fail this time! He slashed out blindly with his cutlass, but his blade sliced through air.

  “Stand off!” barked a voice through the dark and the wind.

  But a wild rage filled Henry’s heart as he struck again and again, each of his blows parried deftly by a wooden staff. “Stand off, Henry!” The intruder forced Henry to the deck and pinned him there. Henry continued to struggle for a moment, then looked up to see a familiar face staring down at him. “Billy! Junco!” he said with alarm. “I’m sorry. I thought —”

  “It’s OK. I know what you thought,” said Junco, releasing the young sparrow and helping him to his feet. “It’s OK. You’re going to be fine. Snipe has canceled the watch and ordered everyone to take shelter! It’s too dangerous out here. Come and warm yourself next to Gabriel and Hillary.”

  Henry hesitated.

  “Quartermaster’s orders!” prompted Junco.

  Henry, Junco, and Hillary huddled under Gabriel’s wings. Junco passed Henry a basket of seed. “Here, have some food and try to get some sleep.” Henry took some seed, nibbled it numbly, then fell into an exhausted sleep.

  The wind continued to howl, sounding like all the voices of the forest speaking at once, including the faint caws of crows and the muffled screams of fishers.

  The following morning was so cold and bright that it hurt the pirates to open their eyes. During the night a bitter, early frost had swept in that actually froze a number of the crew to their perches, including Creeper and Blackcap.

  Chuck came to their rescue by blowing his hot breath on their feet. Chuck’s morning breath stank like a corpse on a hot day, and Creeper had to fight off tears as he gagged. “It’s . . . ack . . . working! It’s working! Oh, Lord!” When the poor birds were finally able to pull their feet from the branches, they flapped clumsily down to the deck, relieved to be free of both the perch and Chuck’s breath.

  The rest of the Grosbeak’s groggy crew emerged, squinting at the brightness of the morning with distaste, and shuffled stiffly into formation on deck. Their feathers were puffed up, and they all wore sour expressions. Clearly, they were not yet ready for the day.

  In contrast to his crew, Jay appeared to have recovered quite a bit. The only visible reminder of his beating was that his wing was in a sling. His remarkable transformation cheered the crew. “Junco,” Jay ordered, “check the seatings on the masts and see that they are tight to the keel and snug to the deck!”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Creeper, scramble up on the yardarms and cut away every other sail tie. I’ll be needing those sails in short order!”

  “Right away, Captain.”

  Jay was both excited and uncharacteristically skittish when he asked Snipe and Crossbill, “Do you think the sparrows are ready to kedge?”

  “Ready as they’ll ever be, I suppose,” said Snipe. “I will say that they’re excited, which is good, but I don’t think they know what they’re in for. I suppose that is a good thing for all of us.”

  “There’s not much ship to kedge,” said Jay, “so, with or without Gabriel pulling, the sparrows should be able to carry it, don’t you think?”

  “We need Gabriel!” said Snipe. “I don’t want to risk everything on those sparrows!”

  You need Gabriel? thought Jay. Now, there’s a shift!

  “But could the sparrows handle it alone?” asked Jay.

  “Why do you ask?” said Snipe skeptically.

  “Backup plan,” said Jay. “One always needs to have a backup plan.”

  Snipe squinted at Jay. “There’s enough of them. . . . I suppose they could carry us to an airstream, though it is not my preferred tack,” he said. “We want to be clear of the crows as quickly as possible.”

  “Of course,” said Jay.

  “I’m confident that with Gabriel pulling we can make it to the airstream,” said Snipe. “I just hope the Grosbeak’ll hold together once we’re under full sail.”

  Jay and Snipe both squinted dubiously at their mess of a ship, each wondering how the Grosbeak would ever fly.

  “I’d like the crew to breakfast before we kedge,” said Snipe. “May I —”

  “Yes,” Jay interrupted, “but tell them to keep their eyes open. There may be crows lying in wait down there in the forest.”

  Snipe ordered the crew to a quick and careful breakfast “of whatever ye can gather from the ground in an hour.” This was a task in itself, as the ground was frozen. Still, they managed to scrape together some food, and by midmorning they were back on board, preparing to kedge.

  “Come on now, mates! The day’s a-wastin’!” Jay called, so anxious was he to set sail. “Ye don’t want to spend another night in this sinkhole, do you? Get them harnesses on, and quick!”

  Jay stayed constantly on alert for any sound or sign of Teach’s gang or bats or weasels. He heard nothing. “I don’t like it!” he growled to Crossbill.

  “Don’t like what, sir?” asked Crossbill, as if he didn’t already know what nagged at Jay.

  “They’re out there waiting, aren’t they, Bill?” said Jay. “They’re waiting for us to kedge.”

  “Snipe and I believe they are, sir.”

  Eventually, all the sparrows, Junco, and even Gabriel donned their kedging harnesses. The gander’s rig was a complicated mess because of his size. It consisted of a vest and a collar with a loop of rope meant to be gripped in his beak to take the strain off his neck.

  Even though the sparrows and Gabriel had proven their worth in battle, kedging a ship was a grueling experience, unlike any other. This would be their first attempt at kedging.

  “HEAVE, MATES!” On Snipe’s order, the sparrows flapped and pulled with all their might. “HEAVE US TO THE SKY!”

  The pirates stood at the ready, poised to unfurl the sails as soon as the ship cleared the tops of the trees. But the trees resisted giving up their prize and held the hull of the Grosbeak in the springy grip of their branches.

  “GIVE IT ALL YA GOT! HEAVE!”

  While the kedgers played an exhausting game of tug-of-war with the trees, the rest of the crew hacked away at branches until, with much tearing and snapping, the Grosbeak finally lifted into the air. The pirates cheered from their positions on the yardarms.

  “That’s the way, mates!” whooped Blue Jay. “Just a bit higher and soon we’ll be sailing pretty!
”

  The pirates began to roll out the sails as the ship began its slow ascent toward the airstream.

  While Teach was an intuitive and impulsive tyrant, Avery was a patient, thoughtful strategist. He had waited and watched throughout the night for the right moment to overwhelm the sparrows and the goose and to kill Jay. He knew Blue Jay’s kedging maneuver would provide the perfect opportunity to attack: most of the birds would be defenseless in their harnesses, unable to flee and unable to fight. “It will be like picking berries,” he had said to his cronies.

  As Crossbill, Snipe, and Jay had predicted, no sooner were they in the air than the crows launched their raid against the Grosbeak.

  “Here they come, sir!” Crossbill shouted to Jay. “The crows are charging us from below!” Jay looked down to see a sizable mob of crows heading toward them, pursued by a flock of intrepid sparrows, who were doing their best to slow the mob’s advance. They relentlessly attacked the crows but could not stop the much larger birds.

  Jay winced. The sails were only partially unfurled. “Cryee!! Step it up, mateys!” he called into the rigging. “I’m needing those sails!”

  Crossbill and Snipe stood anxiously at Jay’s side as the crows drew closer. “Sir?” prompted Crossbill. “Your orders?”

  Jay raised his wing and barked, “Mr. Snipe!”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “It’s time for my backup plan!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “On my order, cut Gabriel’s tether. Do not announce it; do not assign the task to another. I want you to cut the tether yourself, Snipe. Do you understand?”

  Snipe looked stunned. “But, sir!”

  Jay leaned in close to Snipe. “On my order! Understand?”

  “Yes, sir!” said Snipe.