“Look!” Michael called. “The bikers have found some emus!”
We watched for the next several hours as both the crews of wranglers chased emus, cornered emus, and very occasionally captured them. The balloon drifted to and fro overhead, usually able to find a contrary breeze, but never quite managing to get into a useful position when there was actual spotting to be done. Eventually our tower became the expedition’s main emu-spotting post, to the boys’ great delight.
Toward the late afternoon, when it became obvious from the boys’ steadily increasing crankiness that they were in dire need of naps that weren’t going to happen here in the tower, Michael and I packed them into the Twinmobile.
“You stay here and keep spotting,” Michael said, over the shrieks of agony and outrage from the boys. “I’ll help Natalie put them down for their naps, and then she can watch them while I do a little more prep for my summer classes.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Still, I was relieved—though not surprised—when Caroline radioed to tell me that by the time they had passed her, the boys had already been asleep in their car seats.
It was a long day, but a more successful one. The horse wranglers captured three emus, while the bike wranglers managed four. Around six o’clock, Grandfather called a halt so we could transport the emus we’d already captured back well before dark. And while sunset wasn’t for another two and a half hours, it had started getting dark in the long valleys on the eastern side of Pudding Mountain.
When we arrived at camp, the wranglers managed a smooth transfer of the emus into the holding pen. Grandfather and Clarence banded the birds for identification purposes and Thor provisionally identified them by name.
“Of course, Ms. Delia would have known for sure,” he said, with a sigh. “She was amazing.”
Grandfather harrumphed at that.
“But I’m pretty sure we have Edwin Way Teale, Claire Boothe Luce, Lucy Maud Montgomery, John Quincy Adams, John Wilkes Booth, Howard Phillips Lovecraft, and Agnes de Mille.” He pointed out the emus in question, and Caroline noted the names next to their banding numbers.
“This is helpful,” Caroline said. “Of course, I’m not sure how we’ll ever tell when we’ve got them all.”
“She had an inventory of all the birds,” Thor said.
“Who?” Grandfather snapped to attention.
“Ms. Delia,” Thor said. “I suppose it’s possible that Miss Annabel still has her inventory. You’d only be missing the data on chicks born since her death, and they’d probably still be hanging with their parents a lot.”
Grandfather frowned. He looked at the holding pen, with its pitiful flock of emus. Then he stared at me.
“Meg,” he said. “You get on with the old lady. Get me that inventory.”
“Do I hear a magic word?” I asked.
“Hmph!” he said, and stalked off.
“Just for that you’re going to have to wait till after dinner,” I called after him.
I only said it to be contrary, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I realized how tired I was. Badgering Miss Annabel could wait. I headed back to the tent. Michael was outside in a folding canvas chair reading his textbook and making notes.
“They’re asleep,” he stage whispered.
I peeked in to see Josh and Jamie sprawled on the air mattresses in our tent, dead to the world.
I claimed the other folding canvas chair and plopped in it. I intended to take out my notebook and find something useful I could do, but apparently I dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Michael was shaking my shoulder.
“Someone here to see you,” he said. And then he ducked into the tent.
It was Anne Murphy, the librarian.
“I went up to D.C. today,” she said. “Did some research on that question you asked me about.”
“Please don’t tell me you went all that way just to do research for me,” I said.
“I didn’t,” she said. “I went all that way to spend the day in air conditioning. I just used your research as an excuse.”
“Then I’m delighted to have given you an excuse,” I said.
“And I may have found something interesting,” she said.
I sat up straighter in my lawn chair. Anne sat down in the chair Michael had vacated, donned a pair of reading glasses, and took a sheaf of papers from her tote bag.
“Are you familiar with an expedition your grandfather undertook about two years ago to the southwest tip of Virginia?” she asked. “When he stopped a company from building a mine that would have destroyed the habitat of a very rare and newly discovered toad?”