Chapter 19
Page 129
Page 129
This policy soon had dramatic results. Rounding a few more bends in the road, the way was blocked by two jeeps surrounded by a group of people also wearing field glasses around their necks. It was too late to turn and run, and Jed felt that was unnecessarily paranoid anyhow, so he did the only thing possible. They stopped to talk.
Translation wasn't necessary. This was an outing of bird watchers, from Texas, looking for red tanagers.
"Which way you drive up," Jed asked?
"From the Atlantic side."
"Did you see the tanagers down by the junction?"
"Really! We must have missed them."
"Tell you what, I'm off to visit a friend's coffee plantation, but if you follow me, I'll honk just before the junction. Take the other road. The nesting area is four tenths of a mile past that spot."
"Hear that folks," one of the Texans pointed out, "Just goes to show, a fellow wants information, you have to ask a good old American to get straight talk. Yes sir!"
Leading the caravan, which was mixing tracks with ones the bird watcher's had already made, Arty asked Jenny what had transpired. After a junction, when Jed tapped the horn, and the bird watchers followed his instructions, they all laughed at the little gambit.
Curiously, Arty's high pitched giggle went on and on. As cute was cute, but not that cute, Jed asked what the joke was. Jenny translated: "You both lie. No birds live there. People don't look for birds with jeep. They look for birds with bird."
This didn't make any sense at all to either Jed or Jenny until Arty pointed out a Super Cub drifting along on a thermal uplift at half throttle. No wonder they hadn't been able to lose their tail! And if the bird watchers were bogus, the combination of an aerial spotter and ground crew would be hard to shake.
To check this premise, at the next wide spot in the narrow road, Jed slammed the pick-up into a U-turn. Using the mud of a slick bank, he swapped directions in a hurry to head away from the mountain. Moving down the ridge, this time into a rain forest, the vegetation was so thick the road was almost a tunnel of interlocking limbs and vines.
Translation wasn't necessary. This was an outing of bird watchers, from Texas, looking for red tanagers.
"Which way you drive up," Jed asked?
"From the Atlantic side."
"Did you see the tanagers down by the junction?"
"Really! We must have missed them."
"Tell you what, I'm off to visit a friend's coffee plantation, but if you follow me, I'll honk just before the junction. Take the other road. The nesting area is four tenths of a mile past that spot."
"Hear that folks," one of the Texans pointed out, "Just goes to show, a fellow wants information, you have to ask a good old American to get straight talk. Yes sir!"
Leading the caravan, which was mixing tracks with ones the bird watcher's had already made, Arty asked Jenny what had transpired. After a junction, when Jed tapped the horn, and the bird watchers followed his instructions, they all laughed at the little gambit.
Curiously, Arty's high pitched giggle went on and on. As cute was cute, but not that cute, Jed asked what the joke was. Jenny translated: "You both lie. No birds live there. People don't look for birds with jeep. They look for birds with bird."
This didn't make any sense at all to either Jed or Jenny until Arty pointed out a Super Cub drifting along on a thermal uplift at half throttle. No wonder they hadn't been able to lose their tail! And if the bird watchers were bogus, the combination of an aerial spotter and ground crew would be hard to shake.
To check this premise, at the next wide spot in the narrow road, Jed slammed the pick-up into a U-turn. Using the mud of a slick bank, he swapped directions in a hurry to head away from the mountain. Moving down the ridge, this time into a rain forest, the vegetation was so thick the road was almost a tunnel of interlocking limbs and vines.
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