he smiled. There, printed on the slick paper, was a perfect, instant picture ofa nine-banded armadillo, a surprised-looking armadillo, at that. Audie rolled a tube of gooey âcoaterâ over the photo and waved it in the air until it was dry.
Just as he tucked the photo of the armadillo into his ammo can, he heard the unmistakable sound he had been waiting for. A sharp kint kint followed by kaPOW kaPOW.
Only one creature on the entire planet made that sound, only one. He grabbed his binoculars and his camera and followed it. His heart raced in the same rhythmâ kaPow kaPow kaPow . He hurried, stepping as lightly as he could. He paused here and there to cock his ears. Hours passed, and the sound pulled him deeper and deeper into the woods.
As he walked, he was so intent upon keeping the beautiful bird within earshot that he failed to notice that the air had grown increasingly still. Not a single leaf fluttered. Not a single animal stirred.
Nothing except the kint kint of the woodpecker, and the echoing kaPOW of his own beating heart.
Audie Brayburn should have paid attention to all that quiet, all that stillness. If he had, he would have realized that the only time the forest became that still was right before a major storm.
Instead, he kept following the certain sound of the ivory-billed woodpecker. The air was unbearably hot, sweatsoaked his clothes, the water from the swampy floor oozed into his boots, making them feel like lead weights on his feet. He was hungry and thirsty, but more than that, he was determined.
And then, just before the sun gave up for the day, Audie felt a whoosh of powerful wings fly just over his head, and he knew, he knew what it was, and with utter joy he spoke the words heâd been longing to say his whole life long. âLord God, what a bird!â
The beautiful black wings with their trailing white feathers and the large red crest on the birdâs head left no doubt. Everything about the bird said ivory-bill .
Audie raised his Polaroid Land Camera and snapped his shot. When he pulled the strip of film out and peeled the back off, there it was, in black and white: the broad black wings with their trailing feathers, the stripes on the sides of its neck, and the tall crest on its head. Audie opened the tube of coater and covered the surface of the shot, making sure there werenât any streaks. Then he waved the photo in the air until it dried, and slipped it into the ammo can. All just in time, because in the very next instant the rain began to fall, and there he was, deep, deep in the heart of the Sugar Man Swamp, without any idea where he was or where he had left his DeSoto Sportsman.
And worse, the rain was now erasing his footsteps. AudieBrayburn was thoroughly and completely lost. But he was also thoroughly and completely happy. He had his photo of the ivory-billed woodpecker. But just in case he got the chance to take another shot, he checked the camera, and because it was getting so dark, he popped one of the small flashbulbs into the socket. Heâd prove to the world that the bird was not extinctâthat is, if he could ever find his way back to his car.
For a moment, he stood there, soaking wet, first from sweat and then from the big drops of rain that slid out of the sky. He had no idea which direction to go. He also noticed a dry scratch in the back of his throat.
Not only that, but it was getting darker and darker. There is hardly any place on earth that is darker than a swamp at night, especially in a rainstorm. All Audie knew was that somewhere he had left his brand-new 1949 DeSoto Sportsman, and if he could only find his way to the car, then he could take shelter.
He squeezed his camera shut, slung it across his shoulders, and hoped that the rain wouldnât ruin it. He wished he could store it in the ammo can, but it was too large for that. At least, he thought, the prized photos would stay dry. He patted the can and hugged it to his chest.
For
Leslie Ford
Marjorie Moore
Sandy Appleyard
Linda Cassidy Lewis
Kate Breslin
Racquel Reck
Kelly Lucille
Joan Wolf
Kristin Billerbeck
Eleanor Coerr, Ronald Himler