Now the special English program American Stories. Today's story iscalled "the White Heron". It was written by Sarah Orne Jewett. Here isKay Gallant with the story.
The forest was full of shadows as a little girl hurried through it onesummer evening in June. It was already eight o'clock. And Sophiewondered if her grandmother would be angry with her for being so late.
Every evening Sophie left her grandmother's house at five thirty tobring their cow home. The old animal spent her days out in the opencountry eating sweet grass.
It was Sophie's job to bring her home to be milked. When the cow heardSophie's voice calling her, she would hide among the bushes. Thisevening it'd taken Sophie longer than usual to find her cow. The childhurried the cow through the dark forest following a narrow path thatled to her grandmother's home. The cow stopped at a small stream todrink. As Sophie waited, she put her bare feet in the cold fresh waterof the stream.
She had never before been alone in the forest as late as this. The airwas soft and sweet. Sophie felt as if she were a part of the grayshadows and so were leaves that moved in the evening breeze. She beganthinking how it was only a year ago that she came to her grandmother'sfarm. Before that she had lived with her mother and father in a dirtycrowded factory town. One day Sophie's grandmother had visited themand had chosen Sophie from all her brothers and sisters to be the oneto help her on her farm in Vermont.
The cow finished drinking. And as the nine-year-old child hurriedthrough the forest to the home she loved, she thought again about thenoisy town where her parents still lived. Suddenly the air was cut bya sharp whistle not far away. Sophie knew it wasn't a friendly bird'swhistle. It was the determined whistle of a person. She forgot the cowand hid in some bushes. But she was too late.
"Hello, little girl." A young man called out cheerfully. "How far isit to the main road?" Sophie was trembling as she whispered: "Twomiles." She came out of the bushes and looked up into the face of atall young man carrying a gun. The stranger began walking with Sophieas she followed her cow through the forest. "I've been hunting forbirds." He explained, "But I've lost my way. Do you think I can spendthe night at your house?" Sophie didn't answer, she was glad they werealmost home, she could see her grandmother standing near the door ofthe farm house.
When they reached her the stranger put down his gun and explained hisproblem to Sophie's smiling grandmother. "Of course you can stay withus." She said, "We don't have much, but you are welcome to share whatwe have. Now, Sophie, get a plate for the gentleman."After eating they all sat outside, the young man explained he was ascientist who collected birds. "Do you put them in a cage?" Sophieasked. "No," He answered slowly, "I shoot them and stuff them withspecial chemicals to preserve them. I have over one hundred differentkinds of birds from all over the United States in my study at home.""Sophie knows a lot about birds, too." Her grandmother said proudly.
She knows the forest so well the wild animals come and eat bread rightout of her hands." "So! Sophie knows all about birds! Maybe she canhelp me then!" the young man said, "I saw a white heron, not far fromhere two days ago. I have been looking for it ever since. It's a veryrare bird, the little white heron. Have you seen it, too?" He askedSophie. But Sophie was silent, "you would know it if you saw it," headded, "it's a tall strange bird with soft white feathers and longthin legs; it probably has its nest at the top of a tall tree."Sophie's heart began to beat fast. She knew that strange white bird.
She had seen it on the other side of the forest. The young man wasstaring at Sophie, "I would give ten dollars to the person who showedme where the white heron is." That night Sophie's dreams were full ofall the wonderful things she and her grandmother could buy for tendollars.
Sophie spent the next day in the forest with the young man. He toldher a lot about the birds they saw. Sophie would've had much bettertime if the young man had left his gun at home. She could notunderstand why he killed the birds he seemed to like so much. She felther heart tremble every time he shot an unsuspecting bird as it wassinging in the trees.
But Sophie watched the young man with eyes full of adoration. She hadnever seen anyone so handsome and charming. A strange excitementfilled her heart. A new feeling, the little girl did not recognize,love. At last evening came, they drove the cow home together. Longafter the moon came out and the young man had fallen asleep. Sophiewas still awake. She had a plan that would get the ten dollars for hergrandmother and make the young man happy.
When it was almost time for the sun to rise, she quietly left herhouse and hurried through the forest. She finally reached a huge pinetree. So tall it could be seen for many miles around, her plan was toclimb to the top of the pine tree. She could see the whole forest fromthere. She was sure she would be able to see where the white heron hadhidden its nest.
Sophie's bare feet and tiny fingers grabbed the tree's rough trunk,sharp dry branches scratched at her like cat's claws. The pine tree'ssticky sap made her fingers feel stiff and clumsy, as she climbedhigher and higher. The pine tree seemed to grow taller, the higherthat Sophie climbed.
The sky began to brighten in the east. Sophie's face was like a palestar when at last she reached the tree's highest branch. The goldensun's rays hit the green forest. Two hawks flew together in slowmoving circles far below Sophie. Sophie felt as if she could go flyingamong the clouds, too. To the west she could see other farms andforests.
Suddenly Sophie's dark gray eyes caught a flash of white that grewlarger and larger. A bird with broad white wings and a long slenderneck flew past Sophie and landed on a pine branch below her. The whiteheron smoothed its feathers and called to its mate sitting on theirnest in a nearby tree. Then it lifted its wings and flew away.
Sophie gave a long sigh. She knew the wild bird's secret now. Slowly,she began her dangerous trip down the ancient pine tree. She did notdare to look down and tried to forget that her fingers' hurt and herfeet were bleeding. All she wanted to think about was what thestranger would say to her when she told him where to find the heron'snest.
As Sophie climbed slowly down the pine tree the stranger was waking upback at the farm. He was smiling because he was sure from the way theshy little girl had looked at him that she had seen the white heron.
About an hour later Sophie appeared, both her grandmother and theyoung man stood up as she came into the kitchen.
The splendid moment to speak about her secret had come, but Sophie wassilent. Her grandmother was angry with her: "Where had she been?” Theyoung man's kind eyes looked deeply into Sophie's own dark gray ones.
He could give Sophie and her grand mother ten dollars, he had promisedto do this. And they needed the money. Besides, Sophie wanted to makehim happy.
But Sophie was silent. She remembered how the white heron came flyingthrough the golden air and how they watched the sunrise together fromthe top of the world. Sophie could not speak. She could not tell theheron's secret and give its life away.
The young man went away disappointed later that day. Sophie was sad.
She wanted to be his friend. He never returned. But many nights Sophieheard the sound of his whistle as she came home with her grandmother'scow.
Were the birds better friends than their hunter might have been? Whocan know?
You have been listening to the story called the White Heron. Writtenby Sarah Orne Jewett. It was adapted for Special English program byDonald Desanktus. Your narrator was Kay Gallant. Listen again nextweek at the same time for this Special English program of Americanstories. This is Shep O'Neal. |