The Flight of the Golden Bird by Duncan Williamson Read Free Book Online

came the snake, and he shot thesnake. He carried it back to the house. He buried it in the garden. Iain knew nothing of this. He was busy working in his room. His father came in and sat down at the table.
    Sure enough, soon Iain comes downstairs once more.
    He says, “Mummy, can I have my breakfast, please?”
    And his mother gives him a plate of porridge and milk and his spoon. He hurriedly, happy little boy, walks away through his little path through the heather.
    His father turns round to his wife and says, “He’s in for a big surprise when he goes back. I shot the snake.”
    “Well,” she said, “I don’t think you should have done that.”
    Iain goes to the rock once more with his spoon, and he halves the porridge in two as usual – one side to that side, one side to the other side o’ the plate – then tap-tap-tap on the rock. And he waits.
    No answer.
    He taps again with his spoon.
    No answer.
    Three times he taps. No snake.
    He says, “Well, my pet, you seem to not be hungry this morning.”
    And he lifts the plate, porridge and all, he walks back with it. He puts it on the table.
    His mummy says, “What’s the trouble, Iain? Are ye not having yer breakfast this morning?”
    He says, “I don’t feel very hungry.” He walks up to his bedroom.
    The next morning he went with his porridge to the stone. The same thing happened. He went with it three times. Nothing happened. On the fourth day Iain did not come downstairs.
    By this time his daddy’s leg is better. He says, “What’s the trouble? Where is Iain this morning?” He goes up to get Iain.
    Iain was just lying in bed staring at the ceiling. He would not talk to his father in any way, nor he would not talk to his mother in any way. He just lay there. He had completely lost the will tolive, in any way. He lay there for nearly a week without food or drink.
    His father said, “This cannot go on.” So he took his pony, he rode down to the little village and brought back the doctor.
    The doctor came in, asked the trouble. They told him, but they never mentioned the snake. The doctor went up to Iain’s bedroom. He examined him in every way. He could find nothing wrong with him. But Iain wouldn’t even talk to the doctor; he just lay staring into space.
    Then the doctor came down and he said to Iain’s mother and father, “I can’t seem to see anything wrong with yer son. He just seems to have lost the will to live. Has anything happened to upset him in any way?”
    And it was Iain’s mother who said, “Probably it was the snake.”
    The doctor said, “Snake? What snake? Tell me about it.”
    Iain’s father told the doctor about the snake he had shot.
    The doctor was very upset. He said, “Ye know, children are very queer sometimes, and they love to choose their own pets in their own time.” And he said, “I’m sorry, ye should not have touched the snake. I don’t think it would ever have touched him in any way. How long had he been feeding this snake?”
    She said, “He’d been doing this since the beginning of summer, and the summer before that when he was only four. I never knew anything about the snake. But he was a quite happy child, and I just let him take his breakfast outside every morning,” said his mother.
    “Well,” the doctor said, “I think ye’ve made a grave mistake. I’ll come back and see him again, but I don’t think there’s very much I can do for yer son. He’ll have to come out of it himself.”
    But Iain lay in bed and he just pined away. He finally died.
    And his mother and father were so upset they sold the farm and moved off to another part of the country. The funny thing was, no one seemed to want the farm after the story spread fromthe doctor. The farm stood there till it became a ruins. But Iain’s daddy never forgave himself for shooting the queerest pet that any child could have – a poisonous snake.
     
    And that, children, is a true story that happened a long time ago on the West Coast of