"Jesus crippled Christ on crutches cut from the cross!" he cursed in an accent that was more West Virginian than German, his voice full of annoyance. Pam wouldn't say her friend had been afraid during the encounter. Gerbald didn't do fear, but this was as discombobulated as she had seen him in a long time.
"Good gawd, where did you come up with that bit of blasphemy? Dore would pop a vein!"
"Thanks. It's a Gerbald original. That hurt like hell! Mother Dodo put a hole in my boot and even broke the skin!"
"Consider it a sacrifice for science. Ya know, I never would have gotten to witness that nest protecting behavior without you because I'm not dumb enough to actually piss one off." Pam started laughing despite herself. The whole thing, from her safe vantage point, had been nothing short of hilarious. "Channel Thirteen Mega Monster Afternoon Presents: Gerbald the Fearless Dinosaur Hunter vs the Menace of The Mad Dodo Mama!"
Gerbald laughed along with her. It was only his pride that had been in any danger. The dodo, despite its bluster and fearsome beak, hadn't been any kind of real threat to him.
They stayed in their trees for a while, watching as the mollified hen settled down on her lovely big egg, from which vantage point she favored them both with stern glares until, ruffled feathers at last relaxing into their normal softness, she fell asleep.
On their way back to camp that evening, Pam looked back on the mother dodo's defense and began to feel sad. Gerbald had been caught off guard, but if he had really wanted to he could have dispatched the creature with ease. She realized now that all his actions had been to avoid having to injure the dodo rather than to protect himself. Pam now felt embarrassed at having teased him. Even an inexperienced woodsman, say a sailor or a farmer, would ultimately prevail against the big flightless birds.
A darker thought came then, something she knew she must eventually face. Even if she could control human depredations against the dodo, there was still the danger posed by introduced species. Humans had killed their share of the poor things, creatures evolved with no natural predators present and completely unequipped to deal with any serious threats. But from all Pam had read and surmised, the major threat to the dodo's future would be the foreign animals that would inevitably arrive with humanity, whether by design or not. Yes, she would try to stop that invasion and she would make some difference. After all, she had not allowed her colonists to bring along any mammals other than some horses, cattle and sheep, but the rats would be on that ship, too. Even immaculate Redbird carried vermin, despite her and Dore's efforts to eradicate them. How many rats had swum ashore during the wreck? Would they find today's nest and break that pretty shell into a hundred sticky pieces while the poor mother squawked and chased them about in vain?
Gawd, Pam, she thought, there is no point in fretting about this now. We haven't even gotten from Point B to C yet in this mess and here you are worrying about Y. She smiled, deciding to chew on the problem a little more anyway. Well, it's going to come up eventually. Might as well have a plan.
Dogs, cats, pigs, rats and, according to the books, monkeys would be her enemies in the future and she would have to come up with ways to control their populations on the island. She shook her head, knowing that if she lived to see it the day would come when she would find herself in the role of island animal control officer and did not relish the prospect much. Getting the bats out of the Baptist church had put her off dealing with mammals of any sort. She had been able to manage that episode humanely without resorting to killing the poor things, but it would be otherwise with stray invaders on Mauritius. She would have to be ruthless.
Satisfied with her initial studies, Pam began her next project, painting portraits of the dodos. This was for scientific purposes, of course, as well as the genuine pleasure the art gave her. The problem was, despite their general appearance of ungainliness, the big birds covered a lot of ground in a day, sometimes traveling many miles on their sturdy, yellow, four-toed feet. Upon finding them in the morning she would get her bamboo easel, a hand-crafted gift from the bosun, and her precious watercolors all set up in a nice, sunny clearing, but before she could even finish the initial sketches the dodos would plow through the area's edible matter and then wander off, leaving Pam alone to repack her gear and follow. This happened again and again, she was beginning to get frustrated until she hit on an idea.
She and Gerbald spent the next morning gathering nuts, seeds, fallen fruits, beetles and whatever else they could find for dodo treats. After they had a sizable store in hand, they caught up to the dodos at their latest hangout. Overall, the birds seemed to move in a very loose but discernible flock, groups and subgroups working over their various territories in what Pam thought must be a slow, weeks-long, loop, allowing the foraged land time to replenish before coming around to it again. Pam sat up her paints and got to work. A while later, just as the dodos were about to move on, Pam reached into her bag of goodies and threw a healthy hand full of dodo treats across the clearing to the ever hungry birds.
"Here you go, sweeties! Eat it up, yum, yum!" Pam called and cooed while Gerbald rolled his eyes toward the heavens. The dodos looked at Pam with their uncanny yellow eyes, then looked at the treats scattered at their feet. With what Pam felt for sure was a shrug of their tiny wings, they began pecking at the unexpected offering.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Gerbald muttered. "Didn't you say we don't want to make pets of them?"
"I'm not! I'm just feeding a few pigeons in the park, that's all! Just look at this sweet afternoon light. This is great for painting!" Whistling a merry tune, she went back to it. A quarter of an hour later, the dodos had eaten all of Pam's treats and were beginning to move off again when Pam called out a friendly "Yoo-hoo!" and threw them yet another double handful. This time without a pause, the dodos began to eat while Pam went back to painting. After several more repetitions, Pam beamed at what was turning out to be a fine painting. It might even be the one to use for the happy little chapter she would add to her book, Birds of the USE, detailing how the dodos would not be going extinct in this world, thank you very much.
After several hours, Pam decided that anymore work on the piece would just be fussing, so she set about getting her gear ready for the hike home. The dodos were finishing up their latest treat as she woke Gerbald from the nap he had been taking, not part of his standard bodyguard and look-out routine, but then back in Grantville they hadn't been out in the field every day, all day, either. Deeming these woods safe enough and Pam having as nearly a good an eye and ear for intruders as his own, Gerbald got some extra sleep in the way of old soldiers from time immemorial, wherever and whenever he could.
"Come along, Rip Van Winkle. It's almost the eighteenth century. Let's get back."
"Wake me when its the twentieth century or as soon as every European owns a colored TV," he mumbled sleepily from beneath the wide and warped brim of his floppy, mustard-colored hat. He rose languidly to his nearly six feet and stretched like some gray-whiskered, but still deadly, jungle cat. Pam marveled at his ability to sleep anywhere as she finished packing up her gear. As she made ready to leave the clearing, she noticed that the dodos, although finished with their snacks a while ago, hadn't moved on. Instead, they all stood around staring at her.
Pam smiled, a bit surprised at this new behavior. Then she laughed a bit as she realized what was going on.
"Oh, I see, you want another treat! Sorry, kids. I gave you all I had. You're on your own again!" She turned away from them, pleased with her cleverness and the nice piece of art it had yielded and began to walk toward the trail leading home. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Gerbald had not fallen into step with her and was still watching the dodos.