Virgil, the Nest Robber

High in the Bungo trees, in the Tichi-Tichi Forest, deep in the heart of the land of Gom, lives the
rarest, and fairest of birds. Not too big, not too small, not too clever but ever so bright; the Puki-
Puki Warblers spend a gay and happy life. They feed on berries from the Cucu bushes, and forrage
busily for Bogeli grubs in the thick leaves below. They sing and twitter and tweet and whistle all the
while bobbing their heads and hopping, almost dancing, from side to side.

But the most special thing about the Puki Puki Warbler is his colour – he looks like the pot of gold
and the end of the rainbow all rolled into one. His golden beak makes way for a bright pink face,
which merges to purple, then blue, then orange, then yellow, then green (which blends steadily from
lime to an irridesent emerald); this all before giving way to a broadly fanned gold and silvery tail.
If he wasn't such a humble, simple little bird, he would have every reason to feel very proud indeed!

The Puki Puki birds lay only one egg each year, and this in the most peculiar way. The egg, only
ever one is a shiny pink, with purple dots on it. The chicks, unlike nearly every other species, hatch
in summer, and usually when it's hottest. (For the parent warblers feed the chick on the Bogeli
larvae, which are hatched and raised in warm, fermenting fruits of the forest.)
Now it being so hot when the eggs and chicks are in such a fragile state, the parent Puki-Puki's have
the most marvellous habit. Instead of sitting on the eggs to warm them, as most birds do, the Puki
mothers and fathers busy themselves cooling the eggs. To do this they have to fetch water
throughout the day (usually from the broad river which runs through the middle of Gom) and tip it
on the eggs. How do they do this, you may ask? Well the flower of the Bungo tree, and this really is
the major reason why the Pukies live in them, is shaped, funnily enough, just like a little bucket.
Upside down and arranged in bunches, the mauve flowers even have little handles hanging below.
So the Pukis peck them off, grabbing the handle in one foot, and then fly them down and fill them
up. As simple as that.

Now the people of the forest love the Puki bird. They tell stories of the birds, sing about the birds
and copy their dance and whistles. To them it seems God has sent them some feathered angels – and
that is just what Puki Puki means – 'Angel'. And because this little angel is so rare, they protect it
however they can. They will never pick the Mau Mau fruit, and never eat the Bogeli grubs. And
whenever they see one, and they are hard to spot, they will kill the Shiffleback Pythons who eat
them.

Low in the scrub, the thick dark scrub of the Tichi Tichi jungle, deep in the heart of the land of Gom
lives the meanest and keenest of snakes. A small snake, with sharp, shiny eyes and a smooth, silky
tongue, the Shiffleback Pythons sneak and slide along. It's indeed very hard to tell what colour the
Shifflebacks really are – because they are always 'shiffling' from one colour to another, trying to
hide wherever they might be. Not only this, but the Shiffles shiffle shape, from rock shapes to leaf
shapes, so really it is very very hard to find them at all.

The Shiffleback Python eats almost everything most snakes eat but it loves, above all foods, the
once-a-year eggs of the Puki Puki birds. They eagerly await the hotter months, and will let the eggs
grow to nearly their full size, before shiffling up the tree and toward the nest. To protect the eggs,
the parent Pukis mount a full time guard, one is always on duty. But their pecking and scratching is
only sometimes enough, and sadly, the eggs are often swallowed whole by the Shiffle, and it retreats
to digest its meal.

Virgil was a Shiffleback, and the keenest and smartest amongst them. His grandfather and father
had been expert Puki-egg stealers and they had taught all they knew to Virgil. Virgil lived in a hole
under the roots of the tallest Bungo tree in the jungle. And in the top of that tree lived a bright and
cheery pair of Puki birds called Biff and Bonny. Sadly, Virgil had stolen, and eaten their single egg,
for five years running. Heartbroken and childless, Biff and Bonny had begun to prepare again.
Summer was on the way, and Biff, just a simple bird, had lovingly and hopefully built another nest,
but unfortunately had not the sense to choose another spot. And now Virgil who, on a particularly
hot day, had shiffled himself into a leaf-shape in the shade of a tree, was waiting, hungrily waiting,
for this, the latest egg, to reach just the right size.

He was thinking all the sneaky thoughts a Shiffle likes to think, and beginning to doze a little, when
he smelt a smell, a new smell, a dangerous smell. It was the smell of smoke. At the same time he
heard a far-away-getting-nearer kind of noise, the noise of frightened animals.

Well a forest fire has a way of creating panic, and very soon there was a great number of animals
rushing past Virgil. It was a large fire, a fierce fire, and, it being so hot and dry, with a bit of wind, it
spread very quickly. Cheetahs and gazelles, were followed by hyenas, then monkeys, with elephants
trumpeting and thumping past. The faster animals ran straight, hoping to outrun the blaze, but many
the slower animals either dug or climbed. Well a snake is neither fast nor slow, so Virgil was caught,
for once in his life, in a bit of a muddle. He began to slither along with the rest, but was nearly
trodden on by a rampaging hippo. He shiffled into a rock shape, hoping to hide from the fire, but
then, realising the silliness of this, and perhaps by instinct thinking of his stomach, he began to
shiffle, very quickly, toward the top of the tallest Bungo tree in the forest.

Of course, a fire to a bird is not really a problem – they simply take to the air and fly away. But a
nesting bird has another dilemma, especially when their egg is so precious and rare. How does a
bird carry its baby to safety, when it is living inside an egg? Biff and Bonny were able to see the
stampede and the fire well before the animals on the ground, and would have made well away had
not they had their egg to consider. Their hope for a chick, delayed these six years, lay in the nest in
a round and clumsy egg, an egg they were unable to carry. Biff tried to pick it up with his claws,
Jenny with her beak, but of course that was totally impossible So they flitted and fussed from the
nest and into the air wondering what to do. The fire was coming, and coming with speed. Trees,
even tall trees not far away were crackling and burning as the flames rose higher.

The fire, quite quickly, came to the base of the tallest Bungo tree. It greedily attacked the trunk.
Virgil raced upward, the flames leaping behind. A little way above, Biff flittered in a panic above
the nest. Virgil shiffled quickly onto a branch as the fire swept up the trunk. But, as if the fire had
eyes, it seemed to look sideways at Virgil , and then began to creep out along the branch toward
him. Virgil, trapped as he was out on that burning limb, looked upward for somewhere to climb. But
all he saw was the Puki birds, like irrridescent rainbows, arching up and away from the danger. With
all his being, he wished he was one of them. And it was just at that moment that both the snake
below, and a particular bird above, had some rare and unusual thoughts.

His life flashing before his beady snake eyes, Virgil, began to feel a sadness. And, now strangely, it
was not entirely for himself. He saw those birds, flapping like angels, safe above him, but still
trying to rescue their precious egg. It was, for all intents and purposes, the same egg he had stolen,
the same life he had taken five times before. He saw the flames creeping toward him as he curled
tighter to the branch. He felt just as helpless as the egg high above him. He felt the fire slinking
onward, wanting to eat him, to open its mouth wide and swallow him down. He closed his eyes as
the flames began to lick at his tail. And as much as a snake can think, this is what he thought “Boy
do I deserve this! If I get out of this alive, I'll never eat another egg!”

Like I said, Biff, flying just a little above the tree, at this time, was also suddenly grabbed with a
new thought. Looking down to his helpless egg, he saw Virgil below it, a shivering Shiffleback,
clinging to a branch, the flames creeping toward him. Usually simple and quite a bit muddly, Biff
had an unexpected moment of clarity. Somehow the two things – the snake and the egg – added up
to a plan - a plan to save their chick - and he immediately dove into action. Swooping upon Virgil
he grabbed his tail in his claws and flew him, dangling upside down, up to the nest. Setting him
down facing the egg, he stared hard into Virgil's startled eyes.

Virgil, suddenly flung around like this, was all in a muddle, and with these new and convicting
thoughts, was in no place to fight. He surrendered to the gaze of the bird. And, strangley, he seemed
to understand what Biff wanted. Biff was demanding that Virgil swallow the egg.

Guilt swept over Virgil, shame at his past. He couldn't do it. But the fierce determination of the bird
seemed stronger than his reluctance. He slowly opened his jaw wide and shiffled just a little
forward. Bit by bit he inched his mouth around the egg, stretching to the widest point, then relaxing
down over it. It felt like a rock in his mouth.

His lips had hardly met together, the egg high in his neck, when Biff grabbed Virgil's tail in his
claws again, and flew him toward Bonny. She too seemed to understand suddenly the plan, and
grabbed Virgil high on his throat and together they flew, the snake strung between them high and
safe from the fire. The egg hung between them, safe in the belly of the snake.

Tired and weary, the two birds gently set their cargo down high in the Bungo trees of the Jufu
Forest, not quite so deep in the heart of the land of Gom. Never had Virgil been so glad to be alive.
Never had he been so willing to give up an egg. Opening his mouth wide, he shiffled his way
backward, inch by inch, until pink, and purple, and just a little slimy , the egg lay, safe and
unharmed, cradled high in the Bungo's branches. Fussing and flitting with new found joy, Biff and
Bonny found some flowers and, picking them, quickly flew to the nearby streams. Filling their little
angel buckets, they flew the water back to cool both the egg and Virgil, who by this time, was in
quite a shock. The water felt deliciously cool on his scorched tail.

Virgil kept his promise – he never did eat another Puki egg. In fact, he became quite a different
snake altogether. He made his home high in the branches of the Bungo tree, and spent his days
humming to the tunes the little birds sang. He settled on a diet of grubs and snails, occasionally
mashed with Cucu berries. A grateful friend to Biff and Bonny, he guarded their egg until it hatched.
The chick was called Bud, and whenever he strayed or fell out of the nest, Virgil would pick him
up, gently curling his tail around him, and carry him back to the nest. And though he would never
admit it, when no one else was looking, Virgil would quietly practice shiffling himself into beautiful
rainbow colours.