The Legend of Thunderfoot by Bill Wallace

ways behind him.
    The strange place made him nervous. His keen eyes couldn’t see through the thick foliage. Cautious and uneasy, he slowed his pace. Paused between each step to listen. Look. Smell. Feelingcrowded and trapped—almost as he had in the plum thicket—he moved away from the tall grass and climbed toward the place where the walls of the cliff started crowding in on the valley. He found an open spot where he could see. He sat beside a big rock and watched.
    To his right, there was water. More than he had ever seen before. For an instant he thought it might be the Great Water where the sun slept at night. Then he saw the other side. It wasn’t the Great Water. It was a lake. The tall grass grew out a ways—the base of the stems standing in the water. When it became too deep, the stalks stopped and there was nothing but blue. So much blue that he figured it would take over a hundred running steps just to reach the far side of it. In the distance, where the canyon narrowed, giant boulders had fallen from the cliffs. Sand had washed and filtered in to fill the cracks and form a dam. It was amazing! The only water he’d seen before stood in small puddles or depressions in solid rock or . . .
    Suddenly a movement caught his eye. A roadrunner. At the far side of the lake, she ran, stopped, then ran a ways farther. “Thunder?” she cooed. “Thunder? Where are you?”
    He stood, ruffled his feathers, and cooed back,“Over here, Agile’eka. Way up here by this rock.”
    Then he saw the others who ran behind her. There were three more roadrunners. They were young—about his age. Two boy roadrunners and another girl.
    â€œI met some new friends,” Agile’eka clattered. “Come let me introduce you.”
    He sprang to his feet and sprinted around the lake toward them. He was so excited about meeting new friends he didn’t give one thought to his feet. Until . . .
    One of the boy roadrunners stopped. He tilted his head one way, then the other. “What’s that weird noise?” He looked up at the sky. “There must be a storm coming.”
    When Thunder was almost to them, the girl roadrunner’s eyes popped wide. She spread her wings and stumbled backward. The other boy veered off to the side and almost fell in the lake.
    Then all three—their voices startled and astonished—gasped at the exact same instant, “OH! MY! GOSH!!!”

Chapter 12
    â€œDon’t do this,” Agile’eka scolded. “You’re acting like a baby.”
    â€œAm not.”
    â€œAre too.”
    â€œAm not!”
    â€œLook at yourself,” she snorted. “You’re sitting out here, all alone. In the open. In the noonday sun. At least come and join us in the shade. They’re really nice.”
    â€œThey made fun of my feet.”
    Agile’eka sat down, facing him. “They didn’t mean to make fun of your feet. They were just . . . just a little . . . ah . . . startled. Yeah, that’s it. Startled.”
    Beak high, he turned away and closed his eyes. “Sounds like a storm coming,” he mocked. “Nowonder they named him Thunder. Thunderfoot. That’s a perfect name for a bird with feet like those.”
    He looked back at her and didn’t blink. “And they laughed at me, too.”
    Agile’eka leaned closer. “Not all of them. Just one. Rocket. He’s kind of a smart aleck. He thinks he’s really cool. But Brisk and Speedette are sweet.”
    She nudged him with her beak. “Look. When I first saw your feet, it startled me a bit, too. Remember? But when you told me what happened—when I got to know you . . . well, you’re a pretty neat guy. I like you. They will, too. If you’re nice to them, they’ll be nice to you. Just give them a chance.”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œFine!” she huffed, getting to