had their toilet stop, we need to get a move on.’
‘Aye, aye, Capt’n Whisker,’ Horace said saluting him with his hook. ‘All aboard the parrot express. Next stop Hawk’s View and the beautiful Lake Azure.’
Whisker sighed deeply. Captain Whisker. That will definitely take some getting used to …
Laden with three rats, four scissor swords and a longbow, Chatterbeak rose high into the air, leaving the seclusion of the river behind. He flew west over the cliffs, squawking like a crazed cockatoo and drawing the attention of the watching dogs. As soon as his colourful plumage was out of sight behind a line of oak trees, he turned north, rejoining the river at the next bend.
Flying low over the water to avoid any further detection, the companions followed the winding course of the Hawk River towards the mountains. Huge canyon walls rose above them, growing higher as the plains turned to foothills.
From time to time they glimpsed a narrow track dipping down into the canyon before it rose sharply and disappeared from sight behind the cliff tops. From a map Whisker had seen in Pete’s cabin, he recognised the track as Eagle’s Pass, the sole route north from Oakbridge to the alpine village of Hawk’s View.
The treacherous path was seldom travelled by foot, and journeys rarely took place outside the warmer summer months. Although the path appeared deserted, Whisker noticed deep footprints in several muddy sections of the track, signalling heavy traffic in recent days.
Strange for this time of year, he mused.
As the morning wore on, the temperature dropped and an icy wind began howling through the canyon. The companions snuggled into their winter coats and tightened their scarves to ward off the chill. High above them, the snowy peaks of the mountains filled the space between the cliff tops and the sky. The blanket of clouds had finally dispersed and a vivid stretch of blue now adorned the heavens.
After travelling constantly for many hours, the companions stopped to give Chatterbeak a much-needed break. For a tropical parrot, he was handling the frigid temperatures surprisingly well and seemed to have formed a strong bond with Horace. The smallest rat of the team had been carried in Chatterbeak’s claws while the others rode above. Whisker guessed their growing friendship was largely attributed to the bag of nuts Horace had acquired from the school canteen, and which he had generously fed to Chatterbeak as they flew.
No one wandered far during the break. Although Ruby wouldn’t admit it, her ankle hadn’t improved since her fall and she was forced to use the longbow as a walking stick. She had barely hobbled three paces to the water’s edge for a drink before Whisker had to grab her coat to stop her from falling in.
When the travellers finally resumed their journey, fluffy white cumulus clouds dotted the sky above them, growing larger as the day wore on.
Moving higher into the mountains, they glided over a solitary swing bridge which forded the river at its narrowest point. Struck by the strange colour variations in the foot planks, Whisker took out his spyglass for a closer look. The weathered grey tones of the original oak palings were interspersed by the warm cream colours of newer pine planks – roughly cut and fastened with thick ropes. Whisker suspected that a rushed repair job had recently been undertaken on damaged and weakened sections of the bridge.
Further north, the cliffs surrounding the river turned to rocky slopes and the slopes transformed into gentle banks covered with alpine grass and Edelweiss flowers. The woolly white petals of the late-season blooms dotted the surrounding hills like patches of snow.
As the countryside opened up, so did the river. It grew wider and shallower as it neared its point of origin, the majestic snow-fed Lake Azure at the base of Cloud Mountain.
Rounding a bend in the river, Whisker caught his first glimpse of the brilliant blue lake, sparkling like a sapphire in the mid-afternoon sunshine. In the same breathtaking moment, he saw the summit of the mountain rising high above the clouds like a terrifying white fang.
Beauty and terror forged as one, he thought, staring up at the snow-capped peak.
Cloud Mountain was taller and wider than he could have ever imagined. Sprawling conifer forests covered its lower slopes, extending upwards from the northern shores of the lake to the mighty ice glacier. Partly obscured by a band of cloud, the glacier snaked up the mountainside, disappearing into a steep cleft of rock known as the chimney. A stream of melted ice and snow ran from the face of the glacier to the shore of the lake far below.
Even half-shrouded in clouds, the mountain was a truly imposing sight. It towered above the landscape like a giant, making the surrounding peaks look like snowy foothills. Whisker came to the sudden realisation that locating his sister in such a vast wilderness would be far more challenging than he had first anticipated.
His thoughts were broken by a violent jolting motion. In front of him, Cloud Mountain appeared to be tipping onto its side. Beneath him, Chatterbeak was diving hard to his left, rapidly losing altitude.
‘Skraww, skraww,’ the parrot burst out. ‘Hold on tight! We’ve got company!’
Whisker dug his paws into Chatterbeak’s feathers, trying to steady himself. Behind him, Ruby threw her arms around his waist, struggling to remain seated.
‘This is certainly a cosy way to crash land!’ she gasped.
‘I’ve got you,’ Whisker said, wrapping his tail around her coat. ‘Now don’t let go!’
Jail Birds
Chatterbeak was moving too fast for Whisker to see what was pursuing him, but his destination appeared to be a small hill to the west of the river. Crumbling slabs of bluestone and waxy alpine shrubs covered its rounded crest. The frantic parrot swooped towards the largest rock and his passengers leapt clear.
‘Into the shadows,’ he whistled.
Without hesitation, Horace scampered over to the eastern edge of the rock and flattened himself against the cool stone. Ruby took one step on her injured foot and stifled a cry. Cursing under her breath, she threw her arm around Whisker’s neck and the two of them hobbled towards Horace. When they reached him, they collapsed on the ground.
Chatterbeak arched his wings over their bodies so only the blue of his upper feathers was visible from the sky – the shadowy tones blending in with the bluestone of the hill.
Then they waited.
A minute passed, followed by another.
Whisker lay motionless, staring up at the yellow underside of Chatterbeak’s wings, trying to control his breathing. Through the gaps in the outer feathers, Whisker glimpsed a speck of reddish-brown flying high overhead.
A red-tailed hawk, he guessed as a high-pitched kee-eeeee-arr filled the air.
The bird’s call was answered by a second hawk, flying east of the river. The first bird responded by screeching loudly as it circled the hill. The calls continued back and forth for some time as the
