Continued:

The two then shrugged their shoulders and the suits of feathers dropped off. No sooner had 

they taken their suits off, though, and the garments turned to dust at their feet.

The villagers were stunned. These weren't eagle's! These were the children!  And they all 

began to speak at once.

"This is wonderful!"

"You are eagles!"

"Show us how you flew!"

"Yes, show us how you flew!"

The two children looked at each other and then they looked at the dust of their masks and suits. 

They didn't know what to say or do. And because they didn't know what to do, they did nothing.  

When they did nothing, the mood of the crowd shifted. The people began to grumble.

"This is evil!"  someone shouted from the back.

"Bad magic!" someone else answered.

Then someone picked up a stone and threw it at the two. The boy and the girl turned, their faces 

white with fear, and ran toward the woods. The villagers pursued, hollering, shouting, cussing, 

shaking their fists - angry enough to kill the children.

The children ran, dodging, dipping in and out of the trees, over hidden paths.  The only thing 

that saved them was that they knew the woods better than anyone in the village had ever known...

Still the villagers hunted them.  The children moved, running and hiding every day for a week 

before the villagers gave up their chase.  Though the villagers no longer pursued them, the boy 

and the girl knew that they could never return to their village again. And the warning from the 

one whose life they saved whispered hauntingly in their heads.                                                                                                                                                                             
Feeling more lost and alone than ever, they wandered the woods. They scavenged whatever 

food and berries they could find, and they slept in the hollows of old trees.  They were alone.   

They knew their only choice was to leave their homeland forever.  They decided, though, that 

before they would leave, they would make one last visit to their meadow.                                                                                                                                                                            
As they stepped into the meadow, they saw what still remained of the cage they had built for 

the one whose life they had saved.  Their eyes went to that tree limb high above them, where 

the eagle had stood the day they discovered the empty cage.  Snagged on a branch was a 

small strip of cloth that had been used to bandage its wing.  Then their eyes raised to the sky, 

hoping to see their friend.

The sky was empty.

They both plopped down in the tall grasses of the meadow and began to cry, neither trying to 

hide it from the other. Long after the crying had stopped and the two sat silently staring at the 

grass in front of them, the girl's heart jumped.  She looked over at her friend. He stared quietly 

at the ground, his face streaked from earlier tears. She glanced around the meadow, and a soft 

wisp of a breeze brushed across them.  She raised her eyes to the sky.  Far off was a tiny 

speck circling.  She caught her breath, and her heart jumped again.

This time the boy felt her heart jump.  He looked at her; and then looked at her looking up.  

He caught his own breath.

Slowly that speck began to circle down.  When it reached treetop level, they both jumped up 

from the ground.  It was the eagle!  The one whose life they had saved.

They both began to cry again, as the eagle landed on that same tree limb high above them.  

The boy was jumping up and down, shouting, "Yes, we can go back!  We can go back!"

The girls face was filled with tears of hope and joy once more.

The eagle looked on them with sad eyes and then shook his head.  "No, I'm sorry, my young 

friends, but you can never return again."  He paused, and then continued.

The two paled at his words, feeling their hearts crash once more.

"But you did save my life, and because you saved my life, there is still something that I can give you."

With his beak, he reached under his wing and dropped out from under it - into the hands of 

the girl - a flute.  He then fixed his attention on her.

"With this flute, you will learn to speak.  The sound you make with it will call the wind, and the 

wind that you call will bring me from the other side of the sun to the sky above you. It is this Song of 

the Wind that I will bring to you in your dreams.  But is will bring me no closer than the sky above."

Then he turned to the boy, and reaching under his wing with his beak he dropped out from under 

it - into his hands - a rattle.

"I will come also into your sleep.  I will teach you a new rhythm, and I will sing you a song.  

When you can bring that rhythm and the ancient Song of the Eagles out of your sleep, it will 

be that song and that rhythm that will call me from the sky above to where I now stand."

He paused, and looked at both of them with great love.

"Only when the two of you can do this together, will I give you the last thing I have to give.  

I will teach you the language of animals.  I will teach you how to talk with Nature!"

Before they could say a word, the eagle jumped, spreading his wings and began to climb and 

quickly disappeared into the heavens again.

The boy and girl looked at each other and then at what the eagle had dropped into their hands.   

The girl brought the flute to her mouth and blew softly, not knowing at all how to make it sound.  

Nothing came forth.  It was  silent.

The boy looked at the rattle in his hands and frowned, thinking, "This is a baby's toy.  What am 

I going to do with this?"

That night while they slept, the eagle visited them.  The girl's dreams were haunted with the 

soft song of the flute and winds blowing around her.  The boy heard the sound of a rattle, like 

that of a snake. And he heard a song being chanted.  When they awoke in the morning, they 

looked at each other and knew what the eagle had told them was true.  The girl began to 

experiment, trying to get a sound out of the flute. The boy tried to remember the rhythm and the 

song that was chanted in his dreams, but it was to no avail.  No sooner would they open their 

eyes from the sleep, and the songs would fade back into the dream-time.  

They could not bring them forth.

Many days passed, and the girl woke up early, the haunting song of the flute still a soft echo 

in her mind. She could hear her young friend next to her:  She knew he was curled around the 

rattle, for she could hear it moving softly in his sleep.  He was mumbling the dream song that 

was being sung to him. She decided that today would be the day.
With her eyes still closed, trying to hold the fading echoes of the flute sounds from her own sleep, 

she sat up and brought the flute to her lips.  She placed her fingers over the holes, and blew softly.

Nothing.

She adjusted the flute and tried again.

Nothing.

 
She blew a little harder; steadier:

The flute sounded! It was a squeaky sound, but it was a sound!

She blew it again, and this time when it sounded, a breeze brushed across her:
It worked!

She blew a series of squeaks, each of which brought its own gust of breeze.  She began to cry 

softly, and it was then that she heard the boy sitting up next to her.  Each opened their eyes, 

and looked at each other:  She blew the flute and a breeze brushed them both.  He grinned at 

her; and the girl's eyes widened.  The flute dropped away from her mouth.  She stared at his hand.  

The boy looked down, and his hand was bouncing the rattle with a steady rhythm - almost of its own will.

He had the rhythm!

They began to laugh and cry at the same time.  Now they understood what the eagle had told them.  

Only when they could do it together would he return.

Another week passed and still the girl was not able to bring the Song of the Wind from here sleep.  

She practiced and practiced, and though the sounds were smoother; she could not quite bring the 

true song from her sleep.  She could create gust and breezes, but nothing steady. And nothing 

like what came to her in her sleep.

The boy struggled also to bring his dream song into the waking time, but it wouldn't happen.  

He slept with the rattle in his hand.  He carried it everywhere with him. Even though he had not 

tripped or stumbled once since he had the rhythm, when he awoke, the ancient words being 

sung to him would fade to nothingness.

Again the girl woke early one morning.  The Song of the Wind was a little louder in her head, 

and she kept her eyes closed trying to hold onto it.  She could hear the boy's rattle dancing in his 

hand while he slept.  She could hear him mumbling ancient words being sung to him in his sleep.

She blocked him out, and reached slowly for her flute. She brought it up to her lips, listening 

intently to the song in her head.  She took a deep breath and began to blow softly.  The music 

was soft and smooth, and a breeze rose up immediately.  She tried to ignore it, playing the 

music she heard more clearly with each breath.  The breeze grew steady, and she began to 

smile while she played.  She had the song!

The boy's rattle began to dance more clearly.  The words from the song in his sleep began to 

be whispered.  The wind grew stronger still.  He sat up next to the girl, and though her eyes were 

still closed, she knew he was awake.  The rattle moved and he began to whisper the ancient 

dream song to her:

Their eyes opened, and they grinned at each other:  Slowly, while she continued to play and the 

boy sang softly the words that had been sung to him so often in his sleep.  Their eyes were fixed 

on the sky above them.

Then. high in the heavens, a tiny speck appeared and began circling down. Their eyes began to 

tear; and they both stood up.  The girl continued to play and the wind swirled around them.  

The boy looked directly up at the eagle and began to sing loudly and clearly. He began to sing 

the eagle down to the earth.

Slowly the eagle circled the treetops and then landed on the tree limb above them. The girl 

lowered her flute, and the boy quit his song, tears on both their cheeks.  They gripped each 

other's hands tightly. The winds died down around them.  The eagle looked down from the tree 

at them with great love and pride, and be bowed to them once more.

"You have learned well, my young friends, but today the lessons truly begin.  From this day forth 

I will teach you the language of the Animals.  I will teach you how to speak with the Nature.  

From this day forth your home will be among  the woods and streams. Your family will be the 

creatures that abound within the world.  Never more will you be outcast......

From:
Animal-Wise; The Spirit Language and Signs of Nature
by:
Ted Andrews
Dragonhawk Publishing
ISBN #1-888767-34-0

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER 98-84420

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