The Great Bayou Flying Race

One hot day in a Louisiana bayou, three big birds sat atop a large cypress tree.

“There’s nothing to do in this steamy bayou,” said Pink Bird.

“Yep — nothing to do except sit in this big, old cypress tree and hang on,” said Black Bird.

“That’s right,” said White Bird. “Another boring, boiling day in the bayou.”

“Hey, birds,” said Alligator. He’d been listening from down below, floating on the warm, swampy water. “See those three large stones over there on the muddy bank? They’re all about the same size. Let’s see which one of you can fly the farthest while carrying one of those stones. Whoever wins will be the Best Flier.”

“Best Flier,” said Pink Bird. “I like the sound of that.”

“I’m glad,” said Black Bird, “because Best Flier is what you’ll be calling me when the contest is over.”

“I don’t think so,” said White Bird. “I will be Best Flier!” Then White Bird leaped out of the cypress tree and glided down to the stones. The other two birds quickly followed.

They won’t fly more than ten feet, thought Alligator, smiling. When they fall into the bayou, I’ll get a free lunch!

“I’ll carry my stone with my feet,” said Pink Bird, wrapping her claws around the stone. 

“Mine will hang from my neck,” said Black Bird, taking a piece of rope from a nearby swamp boat.

“I’ll just keep my stone in my bill,” said White Bird.

“On your mark!” shouted Alligator. “Get set…”

The three birds hunkered down, ready for takeoff.

“GO!” bellowed Alligator. Then he whispered, “Or should I say lunchtime?”

With mighty strokes, the three birds lifted off and climbed high into the air. Pink, black, and white feathers floated down from the sky.

“Silly birds,” Alligator said with a huge, toothy grin. “I can’t believe they actually listened to me.” He looked up, waiting for them to fall out of the sky, but they kept flying.

“Shoot!” said Alligator. “There goes my free lunch.”

“Getting tired, slowpokes?” asked Pink Bird, though her legs were shaking.

“I feel great,” Black Bird said, trying to hold up his sagging neck.

White Bird kept her beak clamped on the stone and grunted.

They flew for hours all around the steamy bayou.

“This could go on forever,” said Pink Bird, gasping for breath. “How about calling it a tie and heading back to the cypress tree?”

“Good idea,” said Black Bird, barely able to croak out the words. 

White Bird made a bunch of slurpy, mumbling sounds.

Back in the bayou by the old cypress tree, Alligator floated and gazed up at the sky.

“Here they come!” he said. “Boy, do they look tired!”

The three birds flew with slow, painful strokes. Finally, they reached the cypress tree and landed together.

“It’s a tie!” shouted Alligator. Then he sighed and mumbled under his breath, “No free lunch for me today.”

The three worn-out birds rested with their stones in the cypress tree branches. Pink Bird’s claws were cramped tight around her stone, so she sat on her bottom in a crook of the tree.

“My goodness — how your bodies have changed!” Alligator said with a chuckle.

“You do look kind of funny,” Pink Bird said to Black Bird. “Your neck is twice as long as it was before, and it’s naked where the rope rubbed off your feathers.”

“Look at yourself,” Black Bird said. “Carrying that stone with your feet stretched out your legs. They’re like long, skinny sticks now.”

“Yeah, and get a load of White Bird,” Alligator said with a smirk. “Her stone weighed down her lower bill and made a big pouch. You all look really goofy.”

The floating alligator opened his mouth wide and laughed loud and hard.
The three birds frowned. White Bird bent over and shook her big stone out of her pouch. At the same time, Black Bird leaned forward and let the rope holding his stone slide off, rubbing every last feather off his neck and head. Then Pink Bird uncurled her claws and let go of her stone, too.

All three stones dropped straight down, right into Alligator’s huge, open, laughing mouth and quickly down his throat and then into his belly. The sudden weight made him sink into the bayou. Only his eyes showed above the murky water. 

“Well,” said White Bird, “that contest made me hungry. I think I’ll use my new pouch to go scoop up some fish.”

“I’m hungry, too,” said Pink Bird, “but I don’t feel like flying anymore today. I’ll use my long legs to stand in the water and catch fish as they swim by.”

“I’d join you,” said the bareheaded black bird, “but I’m awfully tired. You two go ahead and catch your dinner. I’ll just perch here for a while. When you’re done eating, I’ll swoop down and grab the leftovers.”

“Well then,” said Pink Bird, “I think we’ve all got some fine dinner plans.”

“All of us except Alligator,” said White Bird.

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” said Black Bird. “I’m sure he’ll come up with another bright idea. Right, Alligator?”

The pink flamingo, the black vulture, and the white pelican laughed long and hard.

And for once the big, old alligator kept his mouth shut.