Edgar’s Mission Passport
Tylden Lad
Tylden Lad
March 13th 2024
When Edgar’s Mission rescued me
Fly like an eagle
Certified true likeness
Tylden Lad’s story

The time…

Updated April 24, 2024

One afternoon  in March 2024, we embarked on, what at first, seemed a very straight forward and easy rescue. However, the time invested in this  proved that was not to be.

For several sweaty – blackberry scratched, mangrove swamp navigating, mosquito evading and squeezing through barbwire – hours later proved this.

The source of their escapades? The quest for a dumped rooster.

One of our keened-eyed and kind-hearted team members had spotted his plight on a community Facebook page the day before.

Just shy of the township of Tylden became the destination of our intrepid but small team of three. Wandering through the picturesque setting, they made their way to his last sighting. Once there, by the banks of the Coliban Creek, it was sadly clear that not only roosters, but human rubbish, were dumped in the area.

Although they were quick to locate the sprightly young rooster, the dear lad gave one hell of a chase. And, after all, who could blame him?

For to him, they were yet another predator. And he, with all of the smarts of his ancestral forefathers, the Asian Jungle Fowl, coursing through his little chicken veins, knew just what to do to evade capture.

One of Tylden Lad’s, as he quickly became known, tactics of evasion involved climbing to the highest point of the trees that hugged the riverbank. From here, he soared brilliantly and majestically across the river on approach, leaving collective gasps of “Wow!!” in his wake.

And although his rescuers would be so close several more times, they were not close enough. However, after each match of wits, the young rooster would appear to be magnetically drawn to the same spot.

Perhaps, they sadly mused, he was waiting for the humans who had dumped him to return. Perhaps, he considered his abandonment was but a lapse of their memory, and upon learning of their folly, they would return. And being a good bird would wait. Wait for the humans who were never to return for the good bird.

How many innocent and callously abandoned roosters and chickens, we ponder, must share those same thoughts?

Proving that his size was in inverse proportion to his ability to stay one step ahead, the chances of Tylden Lad’s rescue began to wane. Waning in direct proportion to the stamina of his would-be rescuers.

With nightfall beginning to give hints it was on its way, real began the thoughts “We’d have to shelve this rescue for another better-resourced day.” And so the nearing-exhausted team set a pact, “Come six o’clock, we’ll call it a day. Regroup and come back tomorrow.”

And then it happened.

Little Tylden Lad sprinted into view and darted to the cover offered by a large burnt-out log. Having scoped the area earlier, the team knew just what to do. With hand gestures directing positions, the “crack” team swung into gear. Two troopers at the front to distract the small bird, while one “Green Beret” snuck around behind. Dropping to the ground, they inched, “commando style,” forward, dragging themselves softly through the natural and human-made debris.

So close.

Taking position behind the log it was enough to shade them from the roosters view. But a wee gap underneath allowed light to peak through along with the vision of two yellow legs. It, too, was just enough for one stealth-like hand to slip, ever-so-carefully under and grasp those tiny legs.

That was the plan.

Even the forest, her birds and roadway held their collective breath as the hand slowly probed its way forward. Doing so in the knowledge of not wanting to peak too early or grasp too late. for one wrong move would see that window of opportunity snap heartbreakingly shut.

With viper-like precision, the hand shot out, as did an almost instantaneous squawk from dear Tylden Lad. With it all happening in the fastest of blurs, even the would-be rescuer were not sure of the outcome.

Thankfully, though, their instincts were.

As Tylden leapt high, the positioning of the large log meant the hand could not. But all was not lost.

For as Tylden Lad did an about-face to evade capture by those who stood between him and freedom, he darted quickly behind and right into the arms of his rescuer.

“Got him!”

Gently cradled in loving arms, the two emerged from the undergrowth to euphoric yet somewhat weary cheers. Tylden Lad was on his way home.

And the time? 5.59pm.