"Um, Pam? You best have a look," he said in a very calm voice.
Pam turned around to see that the dodos, rather than melting back into the forest in search of food, had all moved closer to her, a group of six adults and a couple of youngsters now just a few yards away. They stood in a loose clump, their somehow disconcerting yellow eyes all trained unblinkingly upon Pam. Frowning a bit, Pam took another two steps toward the edge of the clearing. The dodos did the same.
"Shit! They think I'm going to give them more treats."
"One dares not utter the phrase 'I told you so.' Oops. I uttered it," Gerbald commented.
Pam screwed up her face to stick out her tongue at him. She took another step and the dodos followed again. Exasperated, Pam waved her arms around in front of her in what she hoped would be seen as a gesture of discouragement and called out "Shoo! Go on now, I don't have any more for you, now git!" The dodos' heads bobbed around watching her arms gesticulate and then took a moment to sniff around their leathery feet to see if their treats had been let loose by these actions. Not finding any, their gaze returned to Pam.
She looked to Gerbald for support but he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't look at me! You're the bird lady," he told her. "Let's just try walking away. They will get bored eventually."
Nodding nervously, Pam turned and headed down the trail at a brisk-but-not-too-brisk pace, followed closely by Gerbald. The dodos came along after, one by one down the narrow path through the forest. Pam was worried that the large, and in such numbers, potentially dangerous, birds might try to rush her, but so far the dodos were content to politely wait for more treats. Following the treat giver seemed their best bet.
An hour later they emerged along the shore near their encampment. Pam and Gerbald, followed by a neat line of dodos. Pers saw them first and whistled up Dore from her kitchen to come have a look. Soon all the sailors stood watching the bizarre procession.
"I feel like the Pied Piper," Pam grumbled, but managed a smile for them, looking for all the world as if she were completely in control of the situation.
"Are these the famous dodos?" the bosun asked, regarding the unusual creatures with wide eyes.
"Yes, indeed they are. Dore, do you happen to have any nuts stored away?" Pam's voice held just enough tinge of desperation to send her friend hurrying into the kitchen to find some. The dodos formed a semi-circle facing Pam, all waiting expectantly for their next feeding. Dore returned with a banana leaf basket full of nuts, which she cautiously handed to Pam, never once taking her suspicious eyes off the gathered birds.
"Gawd, I really hate further associating humans with food, but at this point I have to do something," Pam told Gerbald, quietly.
"I'm not sure why you are so edgy, they are just pigeons in the park after all," he teased. Pam gave him a quick scowl then turned to her flock.
"Here chicky-chickies, have some more nuts!" she called sweetly and threw a heaping handful to the dodos, who eagerly gobbled them up with a gentle clacking of their bills.
"Here, hold this," she ordered Gerbald, thrusting the basket into his hands. Before he could protest she slipped around behind him and made a beeline for her hut, climbing the stairs and slamming the door shut behind her with a loud slap of bamboo. In the meantime, the dodos had finished their snack and were staring at Gerbald and the basket of nuts he now held.
Dore began laughing as did the sailors, all of whom were carefully backing away from the strange creatures in their midst.
"Ha!" Dore called back to her flummoxed husband. "It looks like you are left holding the bag!" she kidded him before disappearing into the safety of her grass-roofed kitchen.
Gerbald shook his head ruefully at being so easily duped. With a sigh he smiled graciously at the waiting dodos.
"Come along then, my feathered friends. Let us see if Gerbald can give you the slip." The dodos followed him as he led them away down the beach into the twilight. Pam wouldn't even come out for dinner that night and eventually Dore sent Fritjof with something for her to eat, growling that she finally understood why the uptime phrase "for the birds" implied something foolish or worthless.
The next day the dodos were hanging around a little ways down the beach, scavenging the tide flats for bits of seaweed and snails. Pam watched from what she considered to be a safe distance through her birding scope as one of the larger dodos managed to catch a scuttling crab. Gerbald was taking the day off from scientific study in order to pout. He had been up well after dark playing a game of hide and seek with his erstwhile followers and had little use for Pam at the moment. Pam just smiled. She knew he'd get over it sooner than later, understanding that no trickster ever enjoys being among the tricked.
The dodos decided to make the beach their home for the time being, sleeping under the palms and occasionally wandering through camp in search of a treat. Although Pam warned everyone not to feed them, they inevitably did anyway. The ugly-cute critters were just too hard to resist. The lonely sailors enjoyed the novelty of having pets about, even ones as odd as these. The only member of the party who was immune to the dodo's charms was Dore, who had no fear of their sharp beaks and who shooed them away from her kitchen and gardens with the mighty force of her bamboo-handled grass broom.
During their stay on the island, the Redbird castaways had been relying on seafood for their protein. There were very few birds present that might be considered game. Gerbald had snared a few black-feathered marsh birds along the river. Pam thought they might be some kind of moorhen, but they tasted pretty much like a mudflat might and had little meat on their sharp bones. They had also tried several species of sandpiper and gull, but the rubbery flesh stank of fish and was so unpalatable they ended up using it all for bait.
The dodos had been among them for several weeks now and their novelty had worn off. Pam realized, to her horror, that the attitude of the men toward their pets had subtly changed. Pam now saw a look of hunger on their faces as they watched the fluffy dodos wander around the camp. Dodos were the largest and juiciest bird they had seen since being marooned, resembling in many ways a plump turkey. They no longer were feeding the dodos for amusement sake, it seemed, but rather to fatten them up for the cooking pot! Even Dore was sneaking a predatory peek at them as she worked on the crab and coconut curry they were having yetagain for the noonday meal.
Pam decided she had better head this disconcerting development off right at the pass. As the men finished their breakfast she walked out into the morning sunlight and harrumphed for their attention.
"All right, you guys," she announced. "I know everybody is hungry for meat but just let me tell you, don't even think about eating a dodo, not even one! Besides, the books all say they taste terrible!" She was really getting mad now and stomped around among the stunned sailors, making sure they all got a good look in her eyes and understood that she meant business! "You lot know how to fish don't you? Well, get off your butts and start fishing! Now! Move!"
The men, hardened navy seamen all, leaped up at her fiery command to prepare the various fishing tackle they had contrived, while Gerbald hastily repaired into the underbrush to gather materials to weave into a new fish trap. Dore hunched over her coconuts with a guilty expression, while Pam continued to stalk up and down the beach keeping a watchful eye on the oblivious dodos. We had better get out of here before history repeats itself Pam thought darkly, denying to herself that she, too, was beginning to wonder what a nice fat dodo might taste like.