On the first day of our PHAST in abuntunvutu, I was hanging up signs in the nakamal when I saw this half alive bird in the corner. He looked like a carolina wren with the coloring of a cedar wax wing. The translation of his name from raga is "holy bird" as they like to roost in churches.
Jesse, a ten year old boy, had stoned him as a toy for his two year old brother, Leighton. There was no way Leighton was slowly going to kill this bird while I watched. I just took him. I tried to set him on a tree outside, but he kept falling out of the high branches. I tried to put him in a safe covered place on the ground, but there were dogs and kids keeping a watchful eye on me waiting for me to leave.
I had no choice but to take him with me. Lucas and all the adults at the workshop laughed that I had stolen this bird from children. I ended up giving Leighton a lolly for the bird and Jesse fifty vatu to be free and clear of any obligation. When we got home, I tried giving him sugar water and mashed up crackers. I tried to catch mosquitos in case he was a bug eater, but he didn't seem very interested.
The little bird made it though the night and even sang in the morning. We both thought that he might survive. Later on that morning he had a massive heart attack on Lucas' finger and died instantly. I wrapped him in hibiscus petals and put his body in the bush.
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