The Crow Chronicles, page 14
‘You mean if the fund is well provided for . . .’ But all Craven Raven’s grave sarcasm was lost on Budhboo.
‘I think I’ve made my point,’ the bandicoot said blandly. ‘The trust—so generously started by your boss, Shri Kaw—is in dire need of more funding. We would appreciate a contribution of similar amount as the one made today, within a week, in order to get your case moving. And from then on, as and when it becomes necessary. We will keep you informed of course . . .’
‘How long do we keep them dangling?’ Billa asked Budhboo, about ten days later, after the second instalment had been made to the fund, the third demanded, and no date given for the entry of Kaw and the crownies into the park.
‘Until we sense they are getting to the bottom of the barrel,’ answered the bandicoot. ‘As yet there seems to be plenty more. And I’ve just thought of another thing. It is impossible that they have brought their entire loot along with them from Bombay. Most of it is still probably stashed away there. So I see no reason why they can’t fetch some more of it for us once they’ve exhausted this lot! It’s going to be a rich season ahead for us, Billa, if we play our cards right!’
‘Any positive developments?’ Kaw asked Craven Raven, his impatience rising with every day that passed uneventfully. ‘Has that bastard bandicoot mentioned any date?’
‘No, sir, he’s humming and hawing as usual. Now he says he can’t spare the staff to do the necessary work until after this Festival of Birds is over. But they’ve made the demand for the third instalment all right! Frankly, sir, I just think they’re trying to milk us for as much as we’ve got. And it’s high time we took some action. The crownies are getting fat and lazy doing nothing all day.’
Kaw looked at Craven Raven with approval. As usual, the jungle crow had a plot on the boil.
‘So what do you suggest we do?’ he asked innocently.
‘Well, sir, I think we ought to remind them rather forcefully about the law and order problem they have in the park and pretend they don’t. It will put the government under pressure and the Prime Minister might just think it useful to have the crownies around after all.’
‘You have a plan, I think, Craven . . .’
‘Well yes, sir! You know they have this grand festival coming up in a few days, sir. A lot of fancy birds doing fancy things. Songs and dances and that sort of cultural nonsense. Very prestigious, everyone’s reputation at stake. Top class security to be given to all concerned.’
‘You mean we throw a spanner in the works?’
Craven Raven shook his head regretfully. ‘I’m afraid that may be difficult. All the artistes are being guarded round the clock and it would be difficult to sabotage the programme itself. You see our main problem is that we can’t possibly just raid the place like we used to in Bombay. We have to remain invisible, otherwise there’s no way we will be allowed into the park. No, sir, what I had in mind is that we strike at night—the night after the grand inaugural ceremony. Security will be somewhat relaxed and they’ll be busy basking in the success of the festival, so a strike at this point will shock them particularly badly. Everyone will forget how wonderful the festival was. But we will have to strike hard if we are to give that bandicoot and tomcat something to lose sleep over. And this is what I have thought we could do . . .’
And already Pandit Husaini Bulbul Doodhraj Maharaj, the magnificent paradise flycatcher from Agra, was as good as defeathered.
Strangely enough, it was the Prime Minister, Shri Pinky Stink Tainted Storkji, who made the most significant remark after the historic meeting at Stinky Tops with Kaw.
‘Tell me,’ he asked Budhboo, looking somewhat puzzled, ‘why did I get the feeling that it was this Shri Kala Kaloota who was the Head of State, and that we here were the outsiders requesting permission to stay, when it was actually the other way around?’
And for once, the Chief of Intelligence took no notice of what the Prime Minister was saying. His mind (and eyes) was still too full of the fabulous treasure that was part of the Keoladeo National Park Trust Fund.
It was to be a significant lapse on his part.
3
Winning Friends and Influencing Birds
As the Festival of Birds got under way at the park, the tension started to rise at Fatehpur Sikri. If there was one thing Kaw hated, it was waiting. The team of five handpicked hitbirds had left for the park the previous evening and the portents had been good: a violent thunderstorm had struck the area at the time, providing the birds with additional cover for their clandestine entry into the park. Kaw had no doubt that the mission would be a success—the team had been trained to perfection and was highly motivated. Kaw’s impatience arose more out of the fact that he was not in the thick of the action as he would have dearly loved to have been. His other great regret was that he would not be on hand to see the expressions on the faces of Budhboo and Billa when they were informed that the great Doodhraj Maharaj had been dastardly defeathered.
Kaw flapped restlessly between the beautiful minarets and cupolas at Fatehpur Sikri. He had placed the crownies on a state of high alert, for it was possible (even if remotely so) that the hitbird team might require emergency assistance. He was glad to see that the birds were ready to scramble at the shortest notice.
Suddenly Craven Raven materialized by his side in that uncanny manner of his that Kaw found so reassuring.
‘Sir, we have just received an urgent message from Stinky Tops. Sent by that blasted tomcat.’
For a moment Kaw entertained the terrible thought that the mission for the defeathering of Doodhraj had been blown: Craven Raven could remain completely unruffled while breaking the most disastrous news. Realizing what was crossing Kaw’s mind, the jungle crow continued quickly.
‘No, sir, it’s not about the hitbird team—they seem to be all right. But apparently there has been some kind of leak. There’s a rumour going around the park about our impending arrival! In fact, we’ve been made out to be a kind of invading horde that is going to lay waste the place. Apparently some busybody bird has got it into his head to investigate the matter and is suspected to be on his way here now. They’re going to try to stop him but can’t promise anything. He has quite a reputation for meddling in matters like this. The tomcat suggests we maintain a very low profile—in fact, he said we ought to go to Agra or Mathura for a couple of days and disappear.’
Kaw looked at Craven Raven speculatively.
‘Any idea how this rumour got started? I don’t like that invading horde bit.’
‘Well, sir, frankly I don’t think it’s the doing of the bandicoot or cat—they’ve both got too much at stake. I think it’s simply that we’ve been sitting here on our butts for too long and you know how mynas and parakeets like to talk. We’ve just been pumping up their curiosity by staying here and doing nothing. Anyway, sir, what do we do about this visitor? Should I send out a couple of squadrons on a search and destroy mission? We have a description of the bird. Or should I call for an immediate evacuation to Agra?’
Kaw thought it over for a while, glad to have a new problem to grapple with.
‘No, Craven,’ he said at last. ‘We are not going anywhere. And I shall certainly not be maintaining a low profile! The great Kala Kaloota Kawa Kaw Kaw is not a bird to hide from any other bird, least of all a nosey-parker featherbrain. Rather than send a couple of squadrons after him and destroy him, which could cause problems for us later on, we will let him come here, welcome him warmly and convince him of our good and noble intentions. In fact I think you should scramble a couple of squadrons to intercept him and escort him here in style. We welcome him royally, then gently pump him for information about the situation in the park. Also by befriending him we might be able to lay the foundations of a support base in the park. Now how does that sound?’
And yet again, Craven Raven could only be astonished at the brilliance of his boss.
The nosey-parker featherbrain in question was, of course, Achaanak, who had decided to give up the pleasure of watching the inaugural of the festival that afternoon to investigate the rumour that had troubled him so. He had made up his mind to check out Fatehpur Sikri after his rather unsatisfactory meeting with Budhboo. Soon after he had left the park’s precincts, he realized he was being followed by a couple of large grey shrikes; secret service birds belonging to Billa’s mob, no doubt. He had to use all his flying skill and guile to throw them off, and this involved a lot of extra distance and high-speed zigzag flying. However, what had really shaken him was a clear attempt on his life. He had been flying swiftly across a field when, without warning, a pariah kite came screaming down at him out of the sun, talons extended, beak agape, eyes blazing. Fortunately the bird’s shadow passed across Achaanak an instant before and he lunged desperately to one side as the huge bird whistled past, buffeting him violently with the rush of wind from its momentum. Of course the kite could have been hunting quite legitimately, but Achaanak knew that kites normally did not go for other raptors on the wing. They preferred dead meat.
After that he kept under the cover of trees, dodging deftly through the canopy. He had decided to conduct his investigation at Fatehpur Sikri with the utmost caution. The powers-that-be at the Keoladeo were obviously very anxious that he not reach there, which meant that they had something to hide.
At any rate he need not have worried. About one kilometre away from it, Achaanak suddenly found himself flanked by two small formations of crows—four birds to each formation. The crows kept pace with him easily, dodging through the trees with consummate skill. The birds did not appear to be hostile and the squadron leaders had actually waggled their wings at him in salute. The other birds flew alongside in companionable silence. Effortlessly they escorted Achaanak through the grand Buland Darwaza and then suddenly peeled away. Achaanak braked to a landing under a cupola, his heart beating rapidly, his mind in a whirl. Who were these superbly fit crows and how had they found him? Had they guided him here or had they known he was heading this way? It seemed that there was some truth at least to those rumours regarding the ravens.
He looked around him. Small bunches of crows sat silent and tense on the tops of the battlements and minarets. They ignored him completely. And all of them, Achaanak noticed, were large, glossy and in top physical shape.
Suddenly a huge jungle crow dropped lightly beside him. Already on edge, Achaanak raised his wings and emitted a shrill warning cry. But the crow merely settled his feathers and smiled.
‘I’m sorry if I startled you,’ he said warmly. ‘My name is Depraven Craven Raven. Welcome to Fatehpur Sikri!’
‘My name is Achaanak, and I am from the Keoladeo National Park,’ he answered automatically, his sunflower eyes staring.
‘Ah, a wonderful place that—the Keoladeo National Park! And what brings you to Fatehpur Sikri? It is a long way and the afternoon is warm . . . Can I help you in any way?’
Achaanak shuffled his feathers awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to say. A friendly reception was the last thing he had expected.
‘Um . . . er . . . I know this may sound peculiar, but, well, I had heard that a big silver bird was seen in these parts and was wondering if there was anything to it. Apparently he has hundreds of ravens with him.’ Achaanak nodded towards the crownie-infested minarets and went on, ‘I . . . er thought those might be some of them. Do you know anything about this bird?’ he finished off in a breathless rush.
Craven Raven laughed like an old friend.
‘Ah, you must mean my boss! The one and only Kala Kaloota Kawa Kaw Kaw!’
Achaanak could hardly believe his ears! So it was all true! He could barely contain his excitement. As there had been not the slightest sign of hostility—in fact quite the contrary—he decided to take the plunge.
‘Um . . . Would it be possible for me to meet him?’ he asked. ‘I could take an appointment if it is not convenient now.’
But the genteel jungle crow continued to be unbelievably cooperative.
‘Of course you can meet him! In fact he would be delighted to meet you, I’m sure! You see, it is not every day that we have visitors from the famous Keoladeo. Let me check where he is . . . I’ll be back in a moment.’
Five minutes later a somewhat dazed Achaanak was ushered into the Diwan-E-Khas, and into the august presence of the great crow.
And the bird before him was surely nothing less than the epitome of greatness. With his blazing marble-white plumage, hypnotic ruby eyes and majestic bearing, this was a bird one could hero-worship at first sight!
‘Good afternoon. You wished to see me?’
And the voice! It was a voice that belonged to a priest!
‘Er . . . yes, sir! And thank you for seeing me at such short notice. I have . . . er heard a lot about you, sir, in the Keoladeo National Park, where I come from.’
‘Indeed? Is that so?’
‘Er . . . yes, sir, but you know, those mynas are really weird!’ Poor Achaanak was rapidly losing his bearings and was beginning to babble. And those suspicions of his were now beginning to seem quite ridiculous.
‘Mynas? Weird? I’m sorry, I don’t follow you.’
‘I mean, sir . . . the things they said. As though you were a monster bird—a roc or something!’
Kaw laughed negligently.
‘Some birds, especially the species lower down, you will agree, do let their imagination run away with them. So be it! Ah, Craven, will you organize some of those wonderful tandoori quails for our guest here. He must be quite peckish after his long flight.’
‘Er . . . sir, please don’t bother!’
‘No bother at all—I assure you!’
‘Sir, may I ask—will you be staying here long or are you in transit for some other destination?’
Achaanak was seriously beginning to wonder if it would be such a bad thing if this magnificent Shri Kaw and his ravens settled in the Keoladeo after all. The bird seemed so civilized and well-bred.
‘Well, yes, we are actually looking around for a suitable place to settle in. We are interested in, you know, doing social work for the upliftment of the avian community. You will agree of course that birds everywhere these days are having a hard time of it.’
‘Well, have you thought about Bharatpur?’ Achaanak blurted out eagerly.
‘Ah, yes, the Keoladeo!’ Kaw sighed and went on, ‘Well, we had been seriously considering the idea . . . but!’ He shrugged delicately and Achaanak fell headlong into the pit dug for him.
‘You mean the government’s been creating problems?’ he asked shrewdly.
‘Well, let’s say we haven’t got a very encouraging response but are still hopeful.’
Which, to say the least, was the truth after all.
‘It must be that Billa and Budhboo who are behind this. They certainly wouldn’t want any bird to do social work in the park. Antisocial work is more up their street!’ Achaanak’s eyes widened as a terrible thought struck him. ‘My God, of course! How blind I’ve been. That’s why they didn’t want me to come here. That’s why they are feigning ignorance. And so cleverly too. Do you know, Shri Kaw, there was an attempt made on my life while I was on my way here? And I was initially followed by two of Billa’s secret service birds?’
Kaw looked suitably shocked. ‘Really? Good heavens! I had no idea things were . . . like this in the Keoladeo!’ He shrugged diffidently once again, as though embarrassed at having to comment on internal matters of such delicacy.
Craven Raven looked at his boss in amazement. Here was the great Doberman slayer, the chandelier shatterer, the BNHS basher, the one and only Khatarnak Kala Kaloota Kawa Kaw Kaw, being doveishly cosy with a two-bit shikra so wet behind the ears it was painful to behold!
Achaanak chattered on blithely, quite flattered that such a great bird was actually listening to what he had to say.
‘Actually, sir, the Keoladeo is going through rather lean times these days. There is virtually no law and order. We are supposed to be a democracy but that Billa and Budhboo are nothing but a pair of Nazi hoodlums!’ He paused, realizing he had overstepped. It was never wise to talk openly against the powerful duo. That evil bandicoot had his eavesdroppers everywhere.
‘But, um . . . aren’t there protests or objections?’
‘Of course there are birds who mind and care! Only they can’t seem to get their act together. Everyone wants to do things their way and so nothing gets done and they fall easy prey to that Billa and his police force.’
Kaw nodded knowingly.
‘Ah yes . . . I know! Everyone wants to be the boss. Collective leadership! That scourge of all idealistic movements. In order to succeed any resistance group needs a single, strong and very charismatic leader.’ Now he sounded as though he were talking in abstraction, and not attempting to plant a seed in the shikra’s excited head.
The seed took root, for Achaanak was getting the first glimmerings of an idea. An idea so audacious, its ramifications took his breath away.
‘Shri Kaw, sir,’ he said, ‘I know a lot of important and influential birds in the park, including members of the press. We could, if you like, form a support group and lobby for your entry to the park. In any case, there is no legal way they can prevent you from entering—and especially since you wish to do social work there.’
‘Ah, thank you, thank you, for your most kind offer,’ Kaw said warmly, as Craven Raven continued to gape. ‘But, as I said, we haven’t given up and expect things to work out our way in a few days. You know how it is with bureaucrats. They must be allowed to take their time in order to feel important. In case things don’t work out—well, we may have to take you up on your kind offer. And now Shri Achaanak, I insist that you be our guest here tonight. There has already been an attempt on your life and it would be too dangerous for you to fly back alone at this hour. Tomorrow, two of my personal bodyguards will escort you back to the park. In the meanwhile, this evening I’d be honoured if you would witness an aerobatic display put up by my crack team of crownies.’
