The Healer Read Online Free Page A

bird hissed again so savagely that Billy drew back. Not even Wasser or Grip so charmed him as did this fierce bird. It seemed so brave, so defiant, so wild.
    "What are you going to do with it?" he asked.
    "Sell him to hunters for a crow decoy. They will chain him on a pole and when the crows see him, they will come in to drive him away. Then the hunters shoot the crows."
    "That's a terrible thing to do," the boy burst out. "Why don't you let the poor thing go?"
    "To kill more chickens? No, he is worth ten dollars to me."
    "I'll give you ten dollars for him," pleaded Billy. "I haven't got it but I'll earn it somehow. He can't spend the rest of his life chained to a pole just so hunters can kill crows."
    "No, boy. It is better so. You will have enough to do here working for your board and keep without buying owls. Come to the house now."
    Billy saw there was a small door on the side of the shed, fastened only by a hasp held with a piece of wood. He turned away to follow Abe Zook toward the house. When they entered the cluttered room, he turned to the old man and said with terrible intensity, "Please let him go. I can't stand thinking of him being tortured like that. I promise you I'll get the money. I don't know how, but I'll get it someway."
    The braucher shook his head. "I cannot let him go. He will come back to kill more chickens."
    Billy said no more. He sat on a bench by the fireplace while Abe Zook cooked supper over the big, wood-burning stove.
    "Here, eat yourself full," said the old man cheerfully, putting two blue-and-white plates on the table. "Tonight we have Boova Shenkel—beef stew. There is still some Kasha Kuchen for the finish. That is cherry cake."
    "I'm not hungry," said Billy without looking up.
    "I could wish that we will be friends," said the old man slowly. "But to let the owl go is not reasonable. You are from the city and do not understand these things."
    Billy made no answer. The old man finished his meal and then took up a tin dishpan.
    "Still, it is not right that I work and you do nothing. Take the dishes to where the water runs from the springhouse and wash them. Here is the soap."
    Billy rose and put the dishes in the pan without a word. Zook opened the door for him and he started toward the ghostly white springhouse. The moon was bright, throwing the skeleton shadows of the trees on the lawn. Wasser had appeared and trotted along beside him.
    As he approached the shed, he heard the owl clicking its beak. Billy put down the dishpan and looked around him. There was no sign of Zook. Only Wasser was with him.
    Billy walked quietly to the shed and after a little fumbling, opened the door. The owl was only a dim shape in the darkness but he could hear the clicking of the beak and knew that the bird was crouched down and fluffed up, watching him with its yellow, saucer eyes. He whispered, "It's all right, you can come out. Come on, old fellow."
    The bird continued to click but made no motion. Billy was puzzled. He had expected the owl to fly out the door immediately. He called to it again and then decided that the bird was afraid of him. Leaving the door open, he went back to the dishpan and began washing the dishes.
    He rinsed them off and then returned to the shed. The owl was still in the same position. Billy patted the chicken wire to make him fly, but the bird hissed so savagely and clicked so loudly that he was afraid Abe Zook would hear. He would have to drive the owl out.
    He entered the shed and edged along the back to get the bird between him and the open door. He could see the owl against the sky now and saw the bird turn its head as though on a swivel to watch him as he inched past. It seemed incredible that the owl would not twist its own neck off. Once on the other side, he waved his hands whispering, "Shoo! Shoo!" as loudly as he dared.
    The owl still refused to move. It had twisted its head around so it was looking full at him. It was crouched nearly flat on the bar, its wings open in a