Chapter 1. Birds on the Ground

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Birds on the Ground

Duncan was a likeable young man, but a bit of a dunderhead. He was always getting his words mixed up, bumping into things, and wondering what everyone else was laughing about. At school they had called him a bird-brain, but he never understood why. Birds were smart. They could fly, and knew how to get from their winter homes to their summer homes. They knew how to build their nests with twigs and things, and they mated for life. They were good parents - even the dads, flew back and forth to keep their babies fed with worms and bugs. Birds were smart enough for birds and Duncan liked them for that.

Duncan grew up in Glenbogle, a tiny village in the Scottish Highlands next to a loch. When he left school at age 14 he went to work at the once grand MacDonald estate, which in the old days, had boasted a staff of 100, providing much employment for the area. Now it hired only a handful of workers and the young people of the village usually moved to the cities to find work. Duncan was lucky to be able to stay in the place he loved, with its mountain views, clean air, heather on the moor and the bird sweetly singing, like in church, only better. The job didn't pay well but it came with a little croft for him to live in a few miles from the Big House.

When he first started out, old Hector MacDonald was still in charge, doing his best to run the place into the ground. Now his son Archie was attempting to fend off the debtors by turning the establishment into a nature preserve and park. It seemed to be working. They hadn't been thrown out on their arses yet.

For reasons of his own, Duncan always wore a kilt, even though it was no longer the custom in Scotland, except on formal occasions. His sticky-out hair looked like it had never seen a comb. Maybe that had something to do with why he never had a girl friend for very long.

Duncan wasn't cool, in the hey dude sort of sense. Nor was he hot, in the babe magnet sort of sense. He was rather luke warm. That didn't keep him from constantly being on the look out for the one sweet lass that would change his life. In the mean time, it was the same old, same old: he had the title "head ranger" but really he was an assistant to the game keeper, Golly and go-fer and general dogsbody for everyone on the estate.

It was early spring and the Glenbogle Wildlife Centre was about to open for its second season. Golly and Duncan were out raking the trails and tossing brush into the woods.

"Do ye think we’ll be ready fer tomorrow?" Duncan asked, his smudged knees showing from beneath his kilt.

"Aye," Golly said, ripping up a root that had grown across the path. Golly, nearly twice Duncan's age, wore the more commonplace jeans and jersey. "Ready enough. After all, we don't get so many visitors this early in the season."

"I wonder who Archie’s gonna hire this year for the admissions stand and gift shop?"

"There are plenty of people in the village who’ll be more than happy to do the work."

"That’s what I’m afraid of. We’ll get some more of those punk kids like he hired last year."

"Scuse me," said a woman said who was coming along the path. "I think I'm lost." The woman had tousled brown hair and wore a gaily patched denim skirt and jacket, plaid tights, and red trainers. She had a purse hanging from the crook in her arm.

"What are ye looking fer?" asked Golly.

"The way out."

"I can show ye," Duncan volunteered. He walked the woman back along the way she had come.
"Thank ye so much," she said. "I get lost all the time." She spoke with a high, almost childish tone of voice, although she was about Duncan's age.

"What are ye doin' here? Don't tell me," Duncan said putting his fingers to his temples like he was reading her mind. "Ye got lost."

"No," she laughed. "I applied for a job at the Glenbogle Wildlife Centre. I'm gonna be the ticket vendor."

"Really. I work here too. I'm Duncan McKay, Head Ranger."

"Head ranger. That sounds important."

"It is," Duncan said nonchalantly.

"I'm Rosie McLean. Nice to meet ye, Duncan."

"Nice to meet ye, Rosie."

They came to the wrought iron front gate, which Duncan opened for Rosie. She skipped out to a waiting police car, driven by Police Constable Callum McLean and called out "Bye". Duncan waved back nervously. PC Callum McLean scowled at him.

PC McLean was the one dark cloud on the horizon of Duncan's life. Ever since Duncan was a kid, the young lawman seemed to have it out for him. The one time Duncan skipped school with some mates and PC McLean came across them swimming in the river, Duncan was the only one caught as the other's ran away. PC McLean always seemed to be there if he was riding his bicycle on the pavement, throwing snowballs at passing cars, or nicking an apple from a farmer's tree. PC McLean seemed to have Duncan down as a regular juvenile delinquent and so when Duncan started driving the MacDonald's Land Rover, and was inclined to go over the speeding limit and park in the wrong placec, PC McLean was not at all surprised. Duncan had racked up more than a few tickets this way.

Back on the path, Golly was hammering in a sign identifying it as trail #2C. Archie came by.

"This looks good," he said. "Do you need any help?"

"Naw, we're almost done."

"Then you'll have time to sweep the Gift Shop and put out the stock?"

"Aye,"

"Good, then I'll be in the estate office if you need me."

Duncan came running back, all arms and legs. "Hi Archie," he said, nearly bumping into him.

Archie went on his way. Duncan picked up his rake.

"Her name is Rosie McLean. She's got the ticket vendor job."

"Good," said Golly. "At least it's not one of those punk kids."

"She's married to PC McLean. He was waitin' fer her at the gate in his car."

"Ach, that's too bad, Duncan. She was lookin' like mebbe she was eligible."

"Naw, I'm not interested in her, Golly. She's not my type. She's a bit of a numptie."

"Oh, then she's definitely not yer type, Duncan." Duncan smiled but he wasn't sure if Golly meant it as a compliment.

The paths cleared, Duncan whistled as he headed to the gift shop, the keys in one hand, a broom in the other. He unlocked the door and found the light switch. The room smelled a bit rank. It contained a few boxes filled with leftover stock from last year.

Duncan did a double take when he noticed the cat lying in the corner eyeing him suspiciously. It was a tabby cat, large and fat, with a short, ringed, bushy tail.

"Hello, wee puss," Duncan said congenially advancing towards the cat. "How did ye get in here?" Then Duncan noticed the hole in the rotted floor boards.

The cat arched and hissed. Its fangs looked the size of Duncan's finger and its mouth looked like it could fit Duncan's fist, or so Duncan thought.

Trembling, Duncan backed away and fell over one of the boxes, making a racket. He picked himself up, ran out the door and locked it behind him.

Golly came upon the scene with a handcart carrying new stock.

"Golly, ye can't go inside. There's some kind of a mad cat in there."

"Ye think I might catch mad cat disease?"

"I'm not kiddin'. It's ferocious. It has killer fangs."

Golly peered through a window. "Oh yeah, I see it. It's not foamin' at the mouth so I trust it will not attack." He took the key from Duncan and unlocked the door. He approached the cat slowly and quietly.

The cat hissed but Golly held his ground. He backed out calmly and shut the door. "Laddie, what we have in there is a wildcat."

"A wildcat! Is it dangerous?"

"Not normally, but in an enclosed space like that, I wouldn't get too close."

"What do we do," Duncan asked, his eyes gleaming. "Use the tranquilizer gun?"

"No, we save that for if a wolf escapes. The cat will probably leave tonight on its own to look fer food. Then we fix the flooring that rotted away so it can't get back in. We should let Archie know about it, though."

Golly and Duncan found Archie in the estate office.

"Why don't we catch the wildcat in one of those cruelty free traps," Archie suggested, "and display it in an animal pens. It would be perfect for opening day tomorrow."

"We don't have a trap like that," Golly said, "But I think Reverend Alice may have one. She had squirrels over the winter."

"I'll ring her and see if we can borrow it," Archie said.

Later that afternoon Archie returned to the estate with the animal trap. He met Golly and Duncan and they set it with ham from the kitchen. "I hope this compares favourably with mouse," Archie said.

Archie insisted on accompanying them to set the trap. He hadn't yet seen the ferocious cat who had nearly bitten Duncan's hand off.

"It is big," Archie agreed, looking through the window.

Golly put the trap in but the cat didn't move towards it.

"Awright, Duncan," Golly said after a while. "Let's you and me start building that animal pen. We'll check on Kitty cat here when we're done."

"Let me know what happens," Archie said.

The three men parted, Archie heading towards the house and Golly and Duncan to the supply shed to get the tools and wood.

"What do you think we should name this cat?" Duncan asked, as they were hammering chicken wire to the posts.

"I dunno, what do ye think?"

"How about Stripey? We had a cat named Stripey once."

"How about Fang, or Killer, or Ferocious?" Golly suggested.

"Okay, mock me," Duncan said. "I'm used to it."

"Awright, Son. Stripey it is."

Animal pen completed, Duncan followed Golly back to the gift shop to retrieve Stripey, who was miaowing indignantly in the cage. Golly picked up the cage by the handle and murmered sympathetic sounds at the beast who hissed and tried to thrust it's paws through the wire bars.

"See what I mean?" Duncan said. "You have to be careful with this guy."

They reached the pen and Golly set the cage down inside. He threw some raw beef he had retrieved from the kitchen in the direction away from the exit, opened the cage, and watched Stripey pounce on the meat. He picked up the cage and made a hasty retreat.

The next morning when the gates opened, Golly was stationed at the Wildlife Centre, which now featured the wildcat as well as the grey wolves, the rabbits and the owl. Duncan was stationed near the entry way to give directions and generally be helpful. People began trickling in shortly after opening time. Strolling the area, it wasn't long before Duncan found himself at the ticket booth.

"How's it goin' Rosie."

"Hi Duncan. Everythin's fine. Want a sweet?" Rosie held out a small white sack .

Duncan looked in. "Jelly babies," he exclaimed, pulling one out. "I haven't had those since I was a kid. Thanks."

"Yer welcome."

"Let me know when ye wanna have lunch. I'll take over fer ye."

"Thanks Duncan. That's fair sweet of ye."

"No, not really," Duncan said. "Archie told me to. We all get lunch breaks. We just hafta take them at different times."

"Oh, too bad we can't take them together. That would be more fun... Some more jelly babies?"

"Thanks," Duncan dipped into the bag with relish. "I guess we're lucky havin' a constable's wife workin' here." He laughed. "If anybody nicks anythin', the law will be here in a jiffy."

Rosie laughed, as well. "Who's that?" she asked.

"What?"

"Who's the constable's wife that's workin' here?"

"You, isn't it?"

"No, I'm not married."

"You're not married to PC McLean?"

"Oh you mean Callum. He's my brother."

"Ohhh...I'll have some more of those jelly babies, if ye have any."

Dr Murray arrived in the afternoon to look at the wildcat. He wore thick protective gloves. Archie, Golly, and Duncan gathered round to watch the examination.

"It looks like you have a purebred here," Dr Murray said. "That's very unusual. Most of them are inbred with feral housecats." The recipients of this news smiled at each other with satisfaction. "We'll see what her kittens turn out to be," Dr Murray continued.

"Kittens?" Duncan repeated, a little puzzled.

"When is she due?" Archie asked.

"Two weeks, maybe."

"That's just when the wolves will be havin' their cubs," Golly said. "We'll have our hands full.

At the end of the day Duncan went to the ticket booth to talk to Rosie. "How did the first day go?" he asked.

"It was so excitin'," she said, her eyes alight. "I havn't talked to this many people in one day since I was in school."

"Really," Duncan said, surprised. Last year's ticket vendor hadn't been anywhere nearly as enthusiastic. "What were ye doin' before this?"

I was at home takin' care of my mum and auntie. Mum got so barmy I couldn't take care of her. She's in a home now. Auntie needed lookin' after too, but mostly she'd sit and not say a word. She died a month ago. That's when I came here to live with Callum. I couldn't bear bein' alone anymore.

"Ach, that's sad, Rosie."

Rosie shrugged and smiled. "Callum will not be here for another half hour. Maybe ye can show me around."

"Step right this way," Duncan said with a sweep of his hand. "Allow me to show ye the Glenbogle Wildlife Centre."

"These are the wolves," Duncan said. "They used to live in the wild in Scotland".

"They're beautiful," Rosie said. "Look at their fur, so warm and soft."

"That'll be good for the babies. Two of the females are havin' babies soon." He pointed out which ones.

"Look, those two are kissin'," she said of two wolves sniffing noses. "Oh dear, now it's kissin' the wrong end." She held her hand to her mouth and giggled.

"Maybe you'd like to see the wildcat now." Duncan said eagerly. They walked a short distance to the pen but they couldn't see the wildcat.

"I think it's in that overturned rubbish bin. That's its cave." Duncan said. He squatted down to look in but he couldn't see anything, as it was beginning to get dark out.

"Stripey, are ye in there? I hope it didn't escape." He pulled out a small torch from his pocket and shone it in, but the torch was too small to reach inside the bin.

"I better go check on it," Duncan said. He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the pen. He tiptoed in, torch in hand, and shone the light into the rubbish bin.

"Mrroggh," the cat howled.

Duncan tore out of the pen, panting, and shut the gate behind him. "It's in there," he said.

"Aye," Rosie laughed. "I think ye woke it up. Ye didn't like that did ye Stripey," she said. The cat was now sniffing the opening rim of the bin.

"Of course, I'm used to this sort of thing," Duncan said puffing his chest. "As Head Ranger, I get this sort of thing all the time. Ye just hafta be faster than they are."

"Let me take a look at it," Rosie said, opening the gate, which Duncan forgot to lock.

"No Rosie, it could be dangerous."

"Don't worry, Duncan. I have you here to protect me." Rosie walked into the pen and stood there. She crept forward until the cat made a low guttural sound. Then slowly she sat down.

"Rosie, I don't think this is a good idea," Duncan whispered.

"Shhh."

In a matter of minutes, the cat crept out of the bin and inched towards Rosie. It put its head in her lap and let her stroke its head. It began to purr.

Duncan was dumbfounded. Not so Golly who had just arrived to feed the animal. "How did she get in there?" he whispered angrily.

"It's a long story," Duncan said.

Golly threw the food in the pen some distance from where Rosie and the cat were sitting. The wildcat leapt towards the food. Rosie stood up, brushed herself off calmly, and walked out of the pen.

Duncan hurriedly locked the gate.

"I think Callum must be here by now. Would ye mind walkin' me to the entrance?"

Duncan didn't mind at all, until PC Callum McLean snarled at him again.


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