The Legend Of The Old And Wise Blue Tit. Part Two. The 'Amazing Quest'.

“Are you crazy?”
It was the next morning. I was telling my best friend, Green, who was a greenfinch, about my quest to go find the Old And Wise Blue Tit. Green was so named for being the only only green member of his family, after being adopted by a family of bullfinches. They told Green that they didn’t know what happened to his real family, just that they found him, as an egg, all alone in his nest, and decided to take care of him.
“Look, I know you don’t probably care much for the legend of the Old And Wise Blue Tit, but…” I shrugged. “But I’ve been fascinated ever since my dad told me the story last night, before bed. I’ve been thinking about it all night. And I’d like to go and see for myself that it is a true story. And I’d really like your help. Please?”
Green sighed. “I have heard of the legend,” he replied. “It is a common fairy tale amongst us little birds in this garden. And I was brought up to believe that’s all it is. A fairy tale. Not true.” My friend sighed, then looked at me. “But I suppose I’ll go with you on this ‘amazing’ quest. I can’t have it on my conscience if I hear you went off on your own, and something awful happened to you.”
“Thanks, Green,” I smiled. “Okay, let’s start right away.”
At the moment we were in the tree where Green lived. His parents were out, giving his brothers and sisters flying lessons. Green, being a bit younger, had to stay home. Neither of us could fly properly yet, so the only thing we could think of to do, was to walk out into the air, and drop onto the ground below.
We were both a bit hurt and our feathers were a little rumpled, but no real damage was done. Before we could make a start on our ‘amazing’ quest, as Green as called it, we heard a voice calling out to us.
“Green! Cheep! Whatever are you doing?”
It was Whiskers, one of the garden mice who lived at the bottom of the tree where Green and his family lived. He was one of the garden mice we were friendly with, and he often made his way to the bottom of the garden, where the Hoomin Bee-ins lived in the big nest. He did this because, the Hoomin Bee-in chicks liked to feed him. I knew I could ask him for help in our ‘amazing quest’. He’d just watched us drop off the branch above, and was now looking very concerned.
“Oh, we wanted to get somewhere,” I told him. “And we can’t fly properly yet, so that was the only thing we could think of.”
“Why? Where you going?” Whiskers asked.
“The big nest where the Hoomin Bee-ins live,” I answered, as matter of fact as I could.
Whiskers stared. “The big nest where Hommin Bee-ins live,” he repeated. “Whatever for?”
So I told him, and asked if he could help us.
“Much obliged, young Cheep,” he smiled. “Now, this grey, hard thing we’re all stood on, it’s called a pa-fway. Hoomin Bee-ins use it to walk up and down the garden on. You need to follow it that way,” he pointed it in the direction of the Hoomin bee-ins’ big nest. “And just keep going, until you reach the ‘big nest’. But be careful. Cats prowl around this garden, you know. Well, take care, young chirplings. And good luck!” And with that, Whiskers was gone.
Green and I set off. We hopped for at least ten minutes, and I didn’t think it would be that bad. That it would be easy. But after ten minutes, something blocked our way. It was a cat! A big, ugly black thing. It stared at us for ages, and we stared back at it, to terrified to move. It purred in delight and licked it’s lips at us, it’s lunch, and started to raise it’s paw, possibly to strike, when it suddenly stopped, looked behind it, and darted off towards the direction of the big nest. I could faintly hear a Hoomin Bee-in cry: “Lucifer! Dinner!”
“Whew! Saved by a Hoomin,” Green breathed in relief. I nodded in agreement, and we carried on.
After a few minutes, Green started moaning: “How much further?” He started to whine.
“Shush,” I answered. “It’s not that much further.” In actual fact, I didn’t know, I just said that to shut Green up. I could see the big nest, but it looked so far away, in the distance. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me and my friend to get there.
“Hello. What you doing down there?”
We both looked towards the direction of the voice. An adult Hoomin Bee-in was stood behind us, having walked down the pa-fway towards us. She looked down at us. “You must have got out of your nest,” she was saying. “Here, let me put you back,” and before either Green or I could escape, the Hoomin Bee-in had bent down and grasped us in her hand.
“Bite her!” I instructed Green. And we both started to bite the Hoomin Bee-in’s hand really hard.
“Ow!” She shouted out, and dropped us back onto the ground. She strode past us, down the pa-fway, towards the big nest, nursing her poor hand. I felt a little guilty, but this was one time I didn’t want to be put back in my nest.
After that, we were able to carry on down the pa-fway. At last, at long last, we came in sight of the big nest. It loomed up in front of us, large and overbearing. We’d reached it at last, but now the problem was how to get inside.
I heard a growling to my left. Another ugly creature bounded towards us. The Hoomin Bee-in’s pet dog. It was a friendly thing, and liked to play with the little birds, but this was not the time for playing.
“Go away!” I begged it. “We don’t want to play.”
But the dog paid no attention and batted at me with it’s paw. I started to get a headache. I wished I could fly properly to safety.
A hole appeared in the big nest, and a Hoomin Bee-in came outside, and made her way up the pa-fway. The dog lost interest in Green and I and started to follow the Hoomin Bee-in.
I looked toward the big nest. The hole was still there.
“Green,” I said. “We could make our way inside the big nest through that hole.”
“We could,” Green agreed. “You’re quite smart, Cheep.”
And so, Green and I made our way towards the hole in the big nest, to find out if the legend of the Old And Wise Blue Tit was true, or just a story. A fairy-tale, as Green had been brought up to think it was.