War of the Eagles by Eric Walters Page A

A mouse trap containing a mouse. The lump of cheese was in its teeth, the metal bar across the back of its broken neck. Instant death. I grabbed the mouse, trap and all, and sprinted back to the flagpole.
    By now Major Brown and the vet were deep in con–versation. Smitty and a couple of the other guys were standing off to the side, just within ear shot. I showed Smitty the mouse. He nodded.
    I put my mouth close to Smitty’s ear and spoke qui–etly. “What’s going on? What are they talking about?”
    Smitty turned so his back was to the conversation and softly spoke to me. “Major wants to know if it can be fixed. If not, he’s going to shoot it.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œSo far the vet can’t tell. Here, give me the mouse and come along.”
    We walked over to the two men. “Excuse us, sir, but we have the mouse the vet requested.”
    â€œGood, good!” the vet replied.
    He took the mouse and removed it from the trap.
    He then bent down and opened up his brown bag. He took out a small bottle and unscrewed the top. Inside were pills, and he shook three out of the container and into his hands.
    â€œTo fully answer your question, Major, I need to examine the eagle, and the only way I can examine it is to knock it out.”
    â€œHow do you propose to do that?” asked Major Brown.
    â€œWith this mouse. This is the ‘sugar’ to disguise the medicine.”
    He proceeded to open up the little mouse’s mouth and shoved the three pills down its tiny throat.
    â€œAnybody got any string?” the vet asked.
    â€œI do,” one of the men volunteered. “Right here in my pocket.” He pulled out a small spool. “It’s not very strong,” he said as the vet took it from him.
    The vet tied a knot around the front legs of the little rodent. He pulled it snug.
    He looked at me. “I want you to drag this around, get the eagle’s attention, but don’t let him have it. Get him interested. Do you understand?”
    â€œSort of. I’m just not sure why the eagle would want this little mouse when it already has the rabbit,” I com–mented as I took the line.
    â€œBecause the rabbit is dead and you’re going to make the mouse seem alive.”
    Every human eye was trained on me but the eagle seemed totally occupied with the rabbit. I felt embar–rassed. I dropped the mouse to the ground and started walking, dragging it behind me.
    â€œMove it with a little more energy,” the vet suggested.
    â€œMake it dance around.”
    I jerked it back and forth. The eagle looked up from its meal and watched as the mouse ran back and forth in front of it. I did a circle right around it. The eagle turned its head all the way as far as it could, and then spun it in the opposite direction, so it could see it on the other side. There was no question I had its complete attention.
    â€œNow, bring it over here,” the vet commanded.
    I brought the mouse to the vet’s feet. He bent down and undid the knot. He handed the mouse, all covered with dirt, back to me.
    â€œHere, throw it.”
    I pulled back my arm to really heave it.
    â€œNo!” he yelled. “I want you to throw it to the eagle, not through the eagle.”
    I followed his directions and pitched the mouse in the direction of the bird. It bounced off its perch atop the tattered remains of the rabbit and pounced directly on top of the mouse. In one swift motion, almost so fast it was a blur, it took the mouse with its talons, tossed it into the air and swallowed it down in one lump without chewing.
    â€œJust a little nibble for that big fella,” Smitty re–marked.“Perfect,” the vet announced. “It should be about twenty minutes before the pills take effect. It would be better if we left the bird alone. The calmer it is the faster things should work. Place the cedar branches around it to give the eagle a feeling of