A Tangled Leg by the Gate
The woman stopped on the gravel track and stared at the metal gate where a striped emu chick fluttered against the lower wire. Its right leg remained wedged between the twisted mesh and the post.
An adult emu stood only inches away, its neck arched high while its dark eyes tracked every step along the fence. The woman lowered her white handbag to the dirt and leaned forward, resting both hands on her knees to inspect the wire.
The juvenile bird thrash-kicked its free leg, kicking up clouds of dry gray dust around the wooden upright. Each sudden jerk pulled the caught limb tighter against the metal square.
Working the Twisted Wire
She dropped into a squat, pulling the hem of her pale dress close to keep clear of the scratchy thistle weeds along the perimeter. Her fingers reached through the mesh to steady the chick’s trembling flank.
The bird let out a sharp, clicking trill, but she kept her palms flat against its soft downy feathers. With her left hand supporting the body, she worked two fingers around the metal loop pinching the scaly joint.
Behind her, the tall adult bird grunted and paced three paces to the left, never taking its gaze off the struggle at the fence line. The wire dug into the woman’s knuckles as she pulled against the tension of the fence.
An Uninvited Spectator
A soft scuff of gravel sounded down the open path. The woman turned her head toward the dry pasture road and stiffened her back.
A coyote padded slowly along the dirt tire track, its ears pinned forward and yellow eyes fixed directly on the thrashing chick. It paused twenty feet away, lowering its snout to catch the wind before taking two slow steps forward.
The woman stood up, pushing one arm back to keep the adult emu behind her while facing the advancing predator. The coyote lifted its chin, its tail held low and stiff above the stones.
A Farmer Clears the Path
Heavy bootsteps crunched rapidly from behind the fence line as a rancher in a wide-brimmed straw hat strode into view. He leveled a flat-edged steel shovel horizontally in both hands, stepping directly into the gap between the road and the gate.
He thrust the blade toward the coyote, slapping the flat steel against the hard gravel with a sharp metallic clatter. The coyote checked its stride, tucked its tail against its hind legs, and spun around toward the dry scrub.
The man lowered the handle to rest against the earth while the woman knelt back down in the dust. Her fingers worked the wire clear of the chick’s foot, lifting the young bird by its chest until both feet touched flat ground.
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