8. Bird catcher
"May I sit here?"
A rustling, yet friendly, adult voice could be heard behind the two.
It was a hunched person with a red beard, wearing a brown, slightly tattered coat.
He had a package wrapped in a white cloth, divided in two and slung over his shoulder.
"Yes, that's OK." Giovanni greeted him with a slight shrug.
The man, smiling faintly in his beard, slowly placed his bags on the overhead rack.
Giovanni, feeling very sad and lonely, was looking at the clock in front of him.
Then he heard a long, glass whistle-like sound far ahead.
The train was already moving quietly.
Campanella was looking everywhere at the room ceiling.
In one of the lights, a black rhinoceros beetle was perched and its shadow loomed large on the ceiling.
The red-bearded man was looking at Giovanni and Campanella smiling nostalgic.
The train was getting faster and faster, and pampas grass and river glowed, alternately, from outside the window.
The red-bearded man asked them timidly.
"Where are you guys going?"
"We're going all the way." Giovanni answered in a slightly clumsy way.
"That's good. Because this train will go wherever you want."
"Where are you going?" Giovanni laughed unintentionally when Campanella suddenly asked him in a quarrel.
A man sitting across the bench, wearing a pointed hat and hanging big key at the waist, glanced at them and laughed.
So Campanella also couldn't help but blush and start laughing.
The man, however, was not angry, but replied with a twitch of his cheeks.
"I'll get off right there. I'm in the business of catching birds."
"What kind of birds?"
"Cranes and geese. Herons and swans."
"Are there many cranes?"
"Yes, there are, and they've been singing for a while now. Haven't you heard them?"
"No."
"We still hear them. Now listen carefully."
The two raised their eyes and listened.
They could hear the sound of spring water "koron koron" through the rattles of train and the wind of pampas grass.
"How do you catch a crane?"
"Cranes or herons?"
"Herons." Giovanni replied, thinking either would be fine.
"That is not a piece of work. All herons are made of sand from Milky Way. They always return to the river.
So I wait at the riverbed and hold the herons when they all coming down with their legs like this, before they can touch the ground.
Then the herons freeze and die in peace. The rest is self-explanatory. I just need to make it into a pressed leaf."
"You make the heron a pressed leaf? Is it a specimen?"
"It's not a specimen. Everyone eats it."
"That's strange." Campanella doubted.
"There's nothing strange or suspicious about it. There." The man took the package from the overhead rack, and quickly unwound it.
"Look at it. I just got it."
"Really a heron." The two couldn't help but shout.
The white body of the heron, which shone like the northern cross, had slightly flattened, with shrunken black legs.
About ten of them were lined up like a relief.
"Their eyes are closed." Campanella gently touched the white, closed eyes of the heron, of crescent moon shape, with his fingers.
They still had the white spear-like hairs on their head.
"Hey, did you understand?" The bird catcher piled up the furoshiki, and wrapped them up again with a string.
"Who in the world would eat herons around here?" Giovanni thought and asked.
"Are the herons delicious?"
"Yes, I have orders every day. The geese, however, sell better. Geese have a much better pattern, and first of all, it doesn't take a lot of work. See."
The bird catcher unwrapped the other package again.
Then the geese, yellow-and-pale-speckled and glowing like a light, were lined up, beaks aligned and slightly flattened, just like the herons of earlier.
"This one is ready to be eaten. How about that, eat a little." The bird catcher tugged at the yellow goose's leg, which came off cleanly, as if it were made of chocolate.
"How is it? Take a bite." The bird catcher tore it in half and gave it.
Giovanni took a bite.
(What, this is a sweet, better than chocolate. There are no such geese flying around.
This man is a confectioner in a field somewhere. But I feel sorry for him, eating his sweets while making fun of him.)
Thinking so, he was crunching and eating it.
"Please take a bit." The bird catcher took out another package. Giovanni wanted to eat some more, but said.
"No, thank you." He refrained. The bird catcher gave it to the person with the key who sat across from him.
"I'm sorry to eat your business products." The man took off his hat.
"No, you're welcome. How's the migratory bird this year?"
"Yeah, it's great. The day before yesterday, during second period, there were phone calls from here and there asking why the lighthouse light was [1 character blank] other than according to the rules.
But it wasn't my job to do it, it was the migratory birds that passed crowded in pitch black, in front of the light, so it couldn't be helped.
I told them that I wasn't going to do anything about that kind of complaint even if they brought it to me. They should say to a general who put on a flapping cloak with very thin legs and mouth. Haha."
A flash of light came from the field over there, due to the lack of pampas grass.
"Why does it take a lot of work with herons?" Campanella had been meaning to ask this for a while now.
"Because, to eat herons." The bird catcher turned to him.
"You must leave them hanging in the water of Milky Way for ten days, otherwise they must be stuck in the sand for three or four days. All the mercury will evaporate, and then we will be able to eat it."
"This is not a bird. It's just sweets." Campanella, who seemed to be thinking the same thing, asked as if he took the plunge.
The bird catcher seemed to be in something of a panic.
"Yeah, I'll get off here." He stood up and grabbed his bags, saying that. Then he was out of sight.
"Where has he gone?"
The two looked at each other, and the lighthouse keeper smiled and looked out the window beside them, stretching a little.
The two looked in that direction and saw the bird catcher standing on the pearly everlastings all over emitting a beautiful yellow and pale phosphorescence, with a serious expression on his face, arms outstretched, staring intently at the sky.
"He's gone there. Very strange. I'm sure he's about to catch the birds again. I hope the birds come down before the train has gone."
As soon as he said that, many herons like the one they had just seen came flying down from the empty bellflower-colored sky, squealing. It was like a snowfall.
Then the bird catcher, being pleased as if it was just what he had ordered, stood with his legs open 60 degrees wide and held the heron's shrinking black legs, and put them into a cloth bag.
The herons flickered in the bag like a firefly, flickering in and out blue for a while, until finally, they all turned vaguely white and closed their eyes.
However, more birds landed safely on the sand of Milky Way than birds that could be caught.
As soon as their feet touched the sand, they shrunk and flattened like melting snow.
And soon, like copper juice from a smelting furnace, they spread out over the sand and gravel.
For a while, the shape of the bird stuck to the sand, but after a couple of brighter and darker times, it was the same color as the surroundings.
After the bird catcher put twenty into the bag, he suddenly raised both hands, and he took the form of a soldier dying by a gunshot.
Then, the shape of the bird catcher was no longer there, and instead.
"Oh, that's a good thing. There's nothing better than earning just enough money to fit." A familiar voice said next to Giovanni.
The bird catcher was neatly stacking the herons he had taken there, one by one.
"How did you come all the way from there to here at once?" Giovanni asked, feeling that it was both natural and not so natural.
"How? I came because I wanted to come. Where on earth are you from?"
Giovanni wanted to reply immediately, but he couldn't think of where the hell he was coming from anymore.
Campanella also was red-faced and trying to remember something.
"Yeah, from a distance." The bird catcher nodded curtly as if he understood.
- To return to table of contents of Night on the Galactic Railroad
A rustling, yet friendly, adult voice could be heard behind the two.
It was a hunched person with a red beard, wearing a brown, slightly tattered coat.
He had a package wrapped in a white cloth, divided in two and slung over his shoulder.
"Yes, that's OK." Giovanni greeted him with a slight shrug.
The man, smiling faintly in his beard, slowly placed his bags on the overhead rack.
Giovanni, feeling very sad and lonely, was looking at the clock in front of him.
Then he heard a long, glass whistle-like sound far ahead.
The train was already moving quietly.
Campanella was looking everywhere at the room ceiling.
In one of the lights, a black rhinoceros beetle was perched and its shadow loomed large on the ceiling.
The red-bearded man was looking at Giovanni and Campanella smiling nostalgic.
The train was getting faster and faster, and pampas grass and river glowed, alternately, from outside the window.
The red-bearded man asked them timidly.
"Where are you guys going?"
"We're going all the way." Giovanni answered in a slightly clumsy way.
"That's good. Because this train will go wherever you want."
"Where are you going?" Giovanni laughed unintentionally when Campanella suddenly asked him in a quarrel.
A man sitting across the bench, wearing a pointed hat and hanging big key at the waist, glanced at them and laughed.
So Campanella also couldn't help but blush and start laughing.
The man, however, was not angry, but replied with a twitch of his cheeks.
"I'll get off right there. I'm in the business of catching birds."
"What kind of birds?"
"Cranes and geese. Herons and swans."
"Are there many cranes?"
"Yes, there are, and they've been singing for a while now. Haven't you heard them?"
"No."
"We still hear them. Now listen carefully."
The two raised their eyes and listened.
They could hear the sound of spring water "koron koron" through the rattles of train and the wind of pampas grass.
"How do you catch a crane?"
"Cranes or herons?"
"Herons." Giovanni replied, thinking either would be fine.
"That is not a piece of work. All herons are made of sand from Milky Way. They always return to the river.
So I wait at the riverbed and hold the herons when they all coming down with their legs like this, before they can touch the ground.
Then the herons freeze and die in peace. The rest is self-explanatory. I just need to make it into a pressed leaf."
"You make the heron a pressed leaf? Is it a specimen?"
"It's not a specimen. Everyone eats it."
"That's strange." Campanella doubted.
"There's nothing strange or suspicious about it. There." The man took the package from the overhead rack, and quickly unwound it.
"Look at it. I just got it."
"Really a heron." The two couldn't help but shout.
The white body of the heron, which shone like the northern cross, had slightly flattened, with shrunken black legs.
About ten of them were lined up like a relief.
"Their eyes are closed." Campanella gently touched the white, closed eyes of the heron, of crescent moon shape, with his fingers.
They still had the white spear-like hairs on their head.
"Hey, did you understand?" The bird catcher piled up the furoshiki, and wrapped them up again with a string.
"Who in the world would eat herons around here?" Giovanni thought and asked.
"Are the herons delicious?"
"Yes, I have orders every day. The geese, however, sell better. Geese have a much better pattern, and first of all, it doesn't take a lot of work. See."
The bird catcher unwrapped the other package again.
Then the geese, yellow-and-pale-speckled and glowing like a light, were lined up, beaks aligned and slightly flattened, just like the herons of earlier.
"This one is ready to be eaten. How about that, eat a little." The bird catcher tugged at the yellow goose's leg, which came off cleanly, as if it were made of chocolate.
"How is it? Take a bite." The bird catcher tore it in half and gave it.
Giovanni took a bite.
(What, this is a sweet, better than chocolate. There are no such geese flying around.
This man is a confectioner in a field somewhere. But I feel sorry for him, eating his sweets while making fun of him.)
Thinking so, he was crunching and eating it.
"Please take a bit." The bird catcher took out another package. Giovanni wanted to eat some more, but said.
"No, thank you." He refrained. The bird catcher gave it to the person with the key who sat across from him.
"I'm sorry to eat your business products." The man took off his hat.
"No, you're welcome. How's the migratory bird this year?"
"Yeah, it's great. The day before yesterday, during second period, there were phone calls from here and there asking why the lighthouse light was [1 character blank] other than according to the rules.
But it wasn't my job to do it, it was the migratory birds that passed crowded in pitch black, in front of the light, so it couldn't be helped.
I told them that I wasn't going to do anything about that kind of complaint even if they brought it to me. They should say to a general who put on a flapping cloak with very thin legs and mouth. Haha."
A flash of light came from the field over there, due to the lack of pampas grass.
"Why does it take a lot of work with herons?" Campanella had been meaning to ask this for a while now.
"Because, to eat herons." The bird catcher turned to him.
"You must leave them hanging in the water of Milky Way for ten days, otherwise they must be stuck in the sand for three or four days. All the mercury will evaporate, and then we will be able to eat it."
"This is not a bird. It's just sweets." Campanella, who seemed to be thinking the same thing, asked as if he took the plunge.
The bird catcher seemed to be in something of a panic.
"Yeah, I'll get off here." He stood up and grabbed his bags, saying that. Then he was out of sight.
"Where has he gone?"
The two looked at each other, and the lighthouse keeper smiled and looked out the window beside them, stretching a little.
The two looked in that direction and saw the bird catcher standing on the pearly everlastings all over emitting a beautiful yellow and pale phosphorescence, with a serious expression on his face, arms outstretched, staring intently at the sky.
"He's gone there. Very strange. I'm sure he's about to catch the birds again. I hope the birds come down before the train has gone."
As soon as he said that, many herons like the one they had just seen came flying down from the empty bellflower-colored sky, squealing. It was like a snowfall.
Then the bird catcher, being pleased as if it was just what he had ordered, stood with his legs open 60 degrees wide and held the heron's shrinking black legs, and put them into a cloth bag.
The herons flickered in the bag like a firefly, flickering in and out blue for a while, until finally, they all turned vaguely white and closed their eyes.
However, more birds landed safely on the sand of Milky Way than birds that could be caught.
As soon as their feet touched the sand, they shrunk and flattened like melting snow.
And soon, like copper juice from a smelting furnace, they spread out over the sand and gravel.
For a while, the shape of the bird stuck to the sand, but after a couple of brighter and darker times, it was the same color as the surroundings.
After the bird catcher put twenty into the bag, he suddenly raised both hands, and he took the form of a soldier dying by a gunshot.
Then, the shape of the bird catcher was no longer there, and instead.
"Oh, that's a good thing. There's nothing better than earning just enough money to fit." A familiar voice said next to Giovanni.
The bird catcher was neatly stacking the herons he had taken there, one by one.
"How did you come all the way from there to here at once?" Giovanni asked, feeling that it was both natural and not so natural.
"How? I came because I wanted to come. Where on earth are you from?"
Giovanni wanted to reply immediately, but he couldn't think of where the hell he was coming from anymore.
Campanella also was red-faced and trying to remember something.
"Yeah, from a distance." The bird catcher nodded curtly as if he understood.
- To return to table of contents of Night on the Galactic Railroad