Echo's Haven
Macaw Rescue
Sanctuary
The Complete
Bird Community
Our goal is to provide a free-flight home for formerly abused, unwanted or problem Macaws.
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Echo's Haven |
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Our goal is to provide a free-flight home for formerly abused, unwanted or problem Macaws. |
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A True Sory
by
I'm sure that most of you know that some parrots have an amazingly long life span. What perhaps you don't know is that some parrots are incredibly long lived. Marcus, the Iron Beak of Death is one of those parrots. Occassionly he likes to share some of his fabulous adventures with me and I, as his humble chronicler, share these amazing true life adventures with you.
The time is April of 1793. The first real World War is being fought between the two Great powers of Europe. One, a continental power seeks to dominate the continent of Europe to the Urals, and to expand it grasp of colonies throughout the world. To further this end, it must, by necessity become a Maritime power as well. The other great nation is the world's dominant maritime power. It views the rise of France with great alarm. If France can challenge Britain on the seas as well as Europe, Britain is doomed. Thus, from the Mediterranean Sea, to the North Atlantic, to the Coast of America and the Carribean, to the Indian Ocean, a series of desperate actions were fought over a period of decades for the right to rule the globe. Picture if you will a new Frigate of the Royal navy, 36 guns under full sail in the tropical seas off Cape Verde. On her decks paces her captain. He is a lonely figure and on his shoulders alone rests the total responsiblity for the ship, the mission, and the crew. The burden is unbearable at times. He paces back and forth across the quarter deck. He is approached gingerly by his cabin boy, an old salt by the name of MikeE. "Beggin your pardon Captain" said MikeE, "But, will you be ready for your breakfast now?" "Swquakk" replied Captain Marcus, the Iron Beak of Death. "Of course Captain Sir, I'll get it right away" mumbled MikeE and shuffled away. Marcus fixed a cold black eye on the retreating figure and clattered his beak. MikeE was mostly just dead weight, and Marcus kept him only because of the comical relief that he, on occassion, was good for. Marcus reflected, this voyage had been long and difficult, the crew's morale had been slipping of late. Something needed to be done to cheer the crew, but what? As Marcus pondered this issue, MikeE returned with a tray of dried fruit. Marcus saw in a flash what needed to be done and commanded, "Rawwwk". MikeE, startled, stammered, "Yes Sir, I washed them only a week ago" and held out his hands for inspection as ordered. Marcus promptly bit MikeE with vigor and MikeE began one of his comical Hornpipes, dancing from one foot to the other, shaking the blood from his hand, and yodeling in pain. The crew looked up at the spectacle and began laughing. Several, off watch, began to accompany MikeE's dance with music. In no time, the crew was working with gusto and singing old shanties. One grizzled old gunner's mate remarked to a friend. "It's just like Captain Marcus to keep a happy ship, he always knows just what we need." At that very moment, the familiar and always pulse tingling call came from the top of the mainmast. "Sail sighted, three points off the starboard bow, French by her rigging and looks to be a third rate ship of the line!" Third rate! She would mount 74 guns and throw three to four times the weight of metal more than Marcus could command. As all eyes turned to Marcus, he snapped "Arwwwwak". "Clean for action" the First Mate repeated. "For what we are about to receive, let us be truly thankful."
to be continued...
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