The next morning, they all piled into the rental car and drove south to the main visitors’ center in the Everglades.
“I can’t believe the runaround we’re getting,” Grandfather said as he waved his pass at the ranger in the booth. “First Melanie Harper says she heard that Andrew was sick. And then you children go to Andrew’s boardinghouse and find out he’s not there!”
“If I wasn’t feeling well, I’d want to be home,” said Violet.
Henry said, “We can’t really blame the park people. They’ve been helpful, except for Melanie. I hope Andrew’s father wasn’t too upset when you told him you hadn’t found his son yet.”
Pulling into an empty parking space, Grandfather sighed. “I’m afraid he did become upset. He hasn’t heard from Andrew in almost three weeks, but I told him to wait a little longer before he calls the police.”
“We’ll get clues when we find out about the panther,” Benny said confidently.
The main visitors’ center was busy. Several park rangers were on duty, handing out brochures and maps, directing people to the various walking trails, and announcing guided hikes.
“We want to learn about the Florida panther,” said Jessie, walking up to the main desk. “Can someone tell us about them?”
The young man behind the counter replied, “Actually, one of our panther experts happens to be on duty in the Royal Palms Visitors’ Center. That’s just next door. Ask for Nelda.”
“Thanks!” Jessie said. Not all rangers were like Melanie Harper. This one was really nice.
And so was Nelda Pearson, as her name badge read. She was describing an easy boardwalk trail to a group of Canadians. When she finished with them, she saw Grandfather and the children.
“How may I help you?” Nelda asked.
“One of your coworkers from the main center told us you are an expert on the Florida panther,” said Grandfather. “I’m James Alden. My grandchildren and I are particularly interested in this animal.”
Nelda glanced at her watch. “You’re in luck. My break is coming up. How about if we walk the Gumbo Lingo Trail.”
They all went outside to a well-marked path. “This is the entrance to the Gumbo Lingo Trail. It’s named after the gumbo lingo trees you’ll see.”
At first the Aldens were too busy looking at the scenery to talk. Besides the odd-named gumbo lingo trees, there were more royal palms, colorful birds flying overhead, and orchids growing wild.
Then Henry remembered their mission. “Do you know Andrew Beldon?”
Nelda stopped and stared at him. “Andy! Yes, we’ve worked together for years. But I haven’t seen him lately.”
“Neither has anyone else. And his father hasn’t heard from him in quite a while,” Jessie said. “Mr. Beldon asked Grandfather to come down here and find Andrew.”
“He’s usually assigned to the Shark Valley Center,” Nelda said.
“He hasn’t been to work in days,” Benny put in. “A lady told us he was sick, but we still can’t find him.”
“Benny means Melanie Harper,” Violet supplied. “Melanie is doing both her job and Andrew’s. She told us yesterday Andrew had called in sick.”
Jessie picked up the story. “But we went to Andrew’s boardinghouse and he wasn’t there. We’ve heard that Andrew is interested in the Florida panther. Maybe if we knew more about them, it would help us find Andrew.”
“Boy,” Nelda said, almost to herself. “I hope Andrew isn’t in trouble.” Louder she said, “Andrew and I work together a lot with the big cats. He’s afraid they’ll become extinct.”
“Are they that rare?” Violet asked.
Nelda’s cheerful voice became somber. “There are no more than thirty to fifty Florida panthers left in the wild. Probably closer to thirty.”
“What happened to them?” Benny asked.
Nelda waved an arm. “The Everglades is their home. But the Glades are much smaller than they used to be. As more people moved in, that made less space for the big cats. They need lots of territory to hunt and live in.”
“I’ve heard that some are killed by cars,” Grandfather said.
Nelda nodded. “And hunters. The Florida panther was only given federal protection in nineteen fifty-eight. Now it’s an endangered species. They live deep in the Glades.”
“We keep hearing they are hard to see,” Henry said. “If a panther is so hard to spot, how do you keep track of them?”
“We use electronic collars,” Nelda explained. “We track the cats — they do leave signs, like paw prints or tufts of hair. Then we give the animals something to make them sleepy. While they are asleep, we treat them for illnesses or injuries and then put an electronic radio collar around their necks. Then we let the cats go. Now we’re able to keep tabs on them.”
Benny was confused. “Watch has a collar. It doesn’t have a radio on it.”
“Watch is our dog back home in Connecticut,” Violet told Nelda. “I’m confused, too. How does the collar work?”
“Each collar is a transmitter,” Nelda said, speaking more slowly so Benny could understand. “The collar sends out high-pitched beeps or signals. We can hear those beeps on special equipment we have.”
“How do you know one cat from another?” Henry asked. He knew a little about radio electronics.
“Good question. Each cat is assigned a number and its personal signal. For example, Cat Number Three has a special frequency. When we tune in our transmitters and hear that signal, we know we’re picking up Cat Number Three’s movements.”
“And that signal tells you where Cat Number Three is?” asked Grandfather.
“It tells us what area she’s in,” Nelda said. “If she’s not moving, we can get an even better idea of where she is.”
Jessie shook her head. “It’s so complicated! Don’t the cats mind wearing those collars?”
“At first they do, but then they get used to them,” Nelda said. “It’s the only way we can help them survive in the wild. Andrew has followed more cats than any of us. He monitors them day and night sometimes.”
Violet had an idea. “Do you think that’s where Andrew might be now? Following one of the cats?”
“He could be,” Nelda replied. “But it would be foolish for Andrew to go into the Glades alone, especially if one of the big cats was hurt. Andrew could be injured himself. No one would know where he is.”
The Aldens were quiet for a moment.
“Couldn’t Andrew call you on his radio?” Jessie asked Nelda.
“Yes, he could,” Nelda replied reluctantly. “I’ve tried calling him,but I don’t get a reply.”
Henry remembered what Gus Hummer, the old man who lived in Andrew’s boardinghouse, had said. He thought that Andrew was mixed up in “something pretty serious.” Could it have to do with the Florida panthers? Maybe Gus Hummer knew more than he was telling.
“We should start back,” Nelda said suddenly. “My break is over, and we’re very busy today.”
“There are a lot of tourists here,” Grandfather noted. “I’m surprised, since it’s summer. I would think people wouldn’t want to tour the Everglades in this heat.”
Nelda led the way back down the Gumbo Lingo Trail. “The Glades are popular year-round. After Yellowstone, the Everglades is the second-largest national park.”
Back at the Royal Palms Visitors’ Center, the Aldens thanked Nelda for her time and information. Once again, she appeared concerned.
“If you hear anything at all about Andrew, please let me know. And if I hear from him, I’ll be sure to tell you,” she promised, jotting her phone number on a piece of paper.
Jessie took the paper and tucked it in her pocket. On another piece of paper, Jessie wrote the address and phone number of the Flamingo Hotel and handed it to Nelda. “You can reach us here. You’ve been a big help. Thanks again.”
Benny had discovered the postcard rack. He was looking for one with a picture of a Florida panther. It would be fun to send it to Watch and Mrs. McGregor. The children could each write something in the small square —
He stopped, postcard in midair, and looked down. He saw shoes on the other side of the postcard rack. Thick-soled boots with orange laces. The boots clumped away and disappeared around the corner.
But not before Benny caught a glimpse of bushy hair tucked under a squashed felt hat. He didn’t remember the hat, but the hair looked familiar. Where had he seen that man before?
Grandfather came up and said, “We’re stopping to talk to Irene on the way home. Maybe she’s heard something about Andrew.”
“Oh, boy!” Benny cried. “Can I have some pumpkin bread?”
“We’ll all have a snack,” Grandfather said. He purchased Benny’s postcard and they left.
It was a long drive north to the Miccosukee Village. The children discussed what Nelda had said.
“If Andrew went into the Glades to rescue a cat, why wouldn’t he tell her?” Jessie pointed out. “They work together.”
“This mystery gets more and more mysterious,” Benny declared.
“I hope Andrew has enough supplies,” said Grandfather. “If he’s in the Glades without food and water, he could be in more trouble than any panther!”
When they pulled into the Miccosukee Village, Irene ran up to their car.
“I have news!” she said breathlessly.
The children climbed quickly out of the car.
“What is it?” Jessie asked, her heart in her throat.
“My father — he gives airboat tours — anyway, he believes he saw Ranger Beldon last night!” Irene’s dark eyes glittered with excitement.
“Did your father talk to him?” asked Grandfather.
Irene shook her head. “My father called out Andrew’s name, but the man ran and hid. That’s very strange because my father and Ranger Beldon are friends.”
“That is weird,” Violet agreed. “If the man wasn’t Andrew, then who was he? And if it was Andrew, he obviously doesn’t want to be found.”
Benny was right. The mystery was getting more and more mysterious. |