Once upon a time‑‑

There came to be born a tiny brown ranch mouse named Cloverdale. He was almost always happy, and forever curious as he grew and thrived.

He had two older brothers and later, one small sister. They lived in a cozy nest his Great‑great‑great‑great grandfather had carefully built, under a board in the deepest corner of their huge barn.

Well‑worn mouse trails gave Cloverdale many exciting afternoons. 

He loved to explore the trails. Years of arranging their trails to be quickly traveled, yet hidden from the Rancher had grooved them into warm tunnels.
They could go outdoors  by following one of the trails, down under the floorboards of the barn, and out into the grass at the far corner of the barnyard.

One morning, Cloverdale woke to hear rain drumming on the roof of the big barn. He snuggled into his warm covers, still sleepy.

It was wonderful to be warm and dry while listening to the dripping rain outdoors! He wanted to stay longer in his bed, but when his mother called to him, he knew it was time to get up and begin the day.

Cloverdale slowly crawled out of his bed, and slowly straightened his covers. Slowly he walked into Mother's large warm kitchen. Slowly he sat down at his place.

"Good morning, Cloverdale. You're certainly a bundle of joy this morning. Did you sleep well?"

She gave him some cereal and milk. His mother then began bustling around the kitchen, already planning her busy day, rain or no rain, and ignoring Cloverdale.

Cloverdale went about his morning chores as slowly as he could. It was still raining and the light inside their home nest was not as bright as usual. But the big barn was steamy and full of warm animal smells when he finally crawled out of the tunnel behind the smallest grain bin. He stood still for a moment, just listening.

Where was Max, the Rancher's big dog? Then Cloverdale spotted him over by the Rancher, who was milking Bessie, the Jersey Cow.

Cloverdale slipped through the barn, saying hello and good morning to many of his friends.

He stopped first to visit with the horses. They were busy eating their breakfast, and didn't want to give him any attention.

Even Maggie, the Bay Mare, had no time for him this morning. She only rolled a friendly eye in his direction. "Okay, Maggie, I'll talk to you later, after you eat your breakfast," he told her. He wanted to visit, but it could wait.

Next he stopped to greet Henrietta, the Red Hen. However, she and her sisters were so busy eating their breakfast that they were not even cluck‑clucking to one another, which was very strange, to be sure.

Henrietta's chicks were following her, softly chirruping back and forth as they pecked through their food. "That's okay, I'll come back later, Henrietta," called Cloverdale.

Maybe the rain was slowing everyone today, he thought as he crept carefully around behind Max, the Dog.

Max, as usual, was being foolish. He was standing in the middle of the barn, looking up at the haymow above the rafters, and barking in high shrill yips.

As usual, no one paid any attention to Max. He was always looking for attention. He barked and yowled all the time, for any small reason and it was only one of his annoying habits!

Cloverdale wondered why the yips were getting higher and more shrill. It hurt his ears. Why was that silly dog barking?

Cloverdale looked up into the haymow, but could see nothing. Oh well, he thought, it was probably another of Max's tricks to get the rancher's attention.

He scurried over to Old Mike, a big Gander who had lived through many, many seasons.

There were some, Cloverdale knew, who said that Old Mike was as old as the Barn. And, thought Cloverdale, it was possible.

Certainly the old gander had many wonderful tales to tell, and tell them he did, whenever anyone would listen. Cloverdale loved the stories. He often spent hours listening while Old Mike talked, until his voice was no more than a whisper.

Old Mike would shuffle slowly from webbed foot to webbed foot as he told his wonderful stories. Cloverdale really liked Old Mike.

"Good Morning, Mike," he said respectfully.

"Why is that fool dog barking?" grumbled Old Mike. He was never cheerful in the morning.

Cloverdale knew that Old Mike could not move around easily, because he had one twisted foot. He had hurt it some years before, and it had not healed properly.

Just at that moment, Max began to yowl even louder than before. And at the same time, they could hear the Rancher shouting at Max, followed by a loud bellow of protest from Bessie the cow.

They heard a clatter and a clank as the nearly full bucket tipped over, spilling all the milk.

Max gave one tremendous "Yip!" that nearly lifted the roof from their barn, then he began to bark and bark and bark, until the barn thundered with the uproar.

Cloverdale scrambled, and Old Mike shuffled to see what was happening. As they peered around a bale of hay, they could see all the animals, and the Rancher, looking up at the haymow. 

Peering down at them was the strangest creature Cloverdale had ever seen.

"What is it?" he whispered to Old Mike. "I've never seen anything like it before. Why, it's bigger than you, almost!"

"Not when I spread my wings!" Old Mike retorted, flumping them heavily against his body.

No one had lately seen Old Mike with his wings spread, flapping in anger. Cloverdale knew the stories about Old Mike, how he'd once been the biggest and some said the meanest gander on the ranch.

Just then, Max screamed "Yip! Yip! Yi‑e‑e‑e!" and began to race around in circles just below the edge of the haymow, leaping with excitement.

"Quiet, Max! Sit! ....Max, be STILL!" yelled the rancher.

The barn was suddenly very, very quiet. Everyone was looking up at the haymow.

The figure peering back down at them was storm‑battered, but still quite majestic in appearance.

It had a wet and scruffy head, with a large curved beak, and fierce yellow eyes. The feathers were flattened from the storm, but Cloverdale could see their proud shape.

As he watched, he saw the creature raise its head, painfully stretching its large body. The wings spread, flipping raindrops down into the hay.

"I am a Regal Eagle," pronounced the newcomer.
"Why are you all staring? Have you never seen an Eagle? But, never mind. I'm wet and I'm very hungry. What do you have for breakfast?"

The creature's fierce yellow eyes came to rest on little Cloverdale.

"Here!" You! Bring a couple more like you up here to me at once," he ordered. "Three or four should be enough for a start!" He began to preen the rainwater from his neck feathers.

"Is he talking to ME?" Cloverdale whispered.

Old Mike did not answer right away. He was shuffling back to his next, tired now after standing so long in one place.

Cloverdale scurried along behind him.

"You must hide, Cloverdale! Quickly, now....go home to your family. Stay hidden until he is gone," warned Old Mike.

"But, why?" Cloverdale asked. "I don't hide from you. He has wings, too, and he looks like you, in a way. Why must I hide from him?"

"Look to the beak!" was Old Mike's only answer. "Look to the beak!" He peered at Cloverdale. "Get home, now. Hurry home to your mother."

Old Mike's tone of voice urged Cloverdale to run as fast as he could. Cloverdale raced through one of his hidden trails, back toward the family nest. His mother was waiting by the home tunnel.

"Oh, Cloverdale, where have you been?" she cried. "I've been very worried about you! There was so much noise. You're really all right?" 

She hugged him tightly, so tightly that Cloverdale almost couldn't breathe.

"You are always the last little Mouse to come home," she scolded as they began to creep back down the long warm tunnel. "Don't wander so far away again, without your older brothers. Use your Common Sense, Cloverdale!" she continued.

"You're too young and too little to go very far away from the nest by yourself."

As Cloverdale followed his mother toward the home next, he wondered why they were all so frightened of that strange and exciting new creature in the haymow.

Indeed, it had been very big and very fierce and also quite stiffly proud, and yes, with an overbearing manner.

Old Mike had warned him away from the creature. Still, in spite of the warning, Cloverdale wanted to learn more about this stranger in his Barn.

Cloverdale sighed, and wished he could see what was happening back in the Barn.

Even from the warm home nest, he could hear the Eagle screaming for food.

He could hear Max barking again, and the voice of the Rancher, coaxing the Eagle to go back outside, to the sky, away from the barn, away from the ranch.

He sighed again, yet he still wondered about it all. There were many strange new things to be seen outside the small world of their Barn.

Cloverdale joined his brothers in a game, but his heart wasn't in it. He was thinking about what he would do when he grew up to be a Big Mouse.

He would find creatures like the Eagle. He would talk to them, and learn from them. And then he would find creatures even more strange and more wonderful than the Eagle, if that were possible.

He would be an Explorer Mouse!

He wanted to see all the world outside their Barn and he wished he wasn't still such a Small Mouse.

Later, after all the noise and uproar had settled, Cloverdale asked to go back up the long tunnel, to play in the little yard behind the grain bins.

"And, may I also go to visit Old Mike, Mother? he questioned. "I want to ask him something."

"If your Father says it's safe for you, yes, you may go, but wait until he has looked first," she told him.

"Remember, don't go unless he tells you it's safe, Cloverdale! Ask your Father first!"

"I will, Mother, I will! 'Bye, see you later!" And off he went, quivering with eagerness to get back to the Barn.

Old Mike was taking a nap when Cloverdale finally arrived, breathless from his run. Cloverdale stood quietly for a minute, but he could hear the old Gander snoring steadily, and there was no answer when he called softly.

'Well,' he thought, 'let him sleep. I'll come back later. Who else can I ask,' he wondered to himself. 'Who else? H‑m‑m, let me think.'

"What are you doing, Cloverdale?" asked a cheerful voice behind him.

It was Maggie the Bay Horse, who was poking her long dark nose over her stall to look at him

"Did you see the Eagle this morning?" she asked, "...and did you hear all that noise!" She laughed, whinnying and snorting, remembering the excitement from the morning.

"Oh, yes, Maggie, I was here. But Old Mike made me go home before it was over. What happened, Maggie, what happened?"

Cloverdale was pleased to see his friend, and he quickly climbed up to sit on a post beside her gentle nose.

"Is the Eagle still here?" he asked.

"Well," she said slowly, "..let me think....it all happened so fast, and that Max just wouldn't quiet down at all....let me think...."

"Were you here when the Rancher took the big rabbit cage up to the haymow? No? Well, that was something to see, let me tell you." She chomped her teeth and waggled her lower lip at Cloverdale.

"The Rancher finally had to tie a rope to the top of the cage, throw it up over a rafter and have me help pull on the rope, to lift it up there, into the haymow.

It really was something, Cloverdale, getting that big cage up there. What do you think of that!" she asked.

"A cage! Why a cage? What was the Eagle doing while all this happened?"

Cloverdale could see that Maggie was enjoying the telling of this story, but he wished she would tell it all in proper order, so he could understand.

"That Regal Eagle! Huh!" Maggie scoffed.

"Here he comes into our Barn, demanding food to be brought to him..." she stopped, suddenly remembering why Cloverdale had left the barn so quickly. "...demanding food," she continued, "and all the while he was being proud and strong and acting tough, he was not even able to fly anywhere."

Maggie tossed her head indignantly. "Do you know, he can't even fly now, because he got hurt somehow in the storm, and he really needs our help. But he could have asked nicely for it!" Maggie pawed the straw in her stall. "Some people just don't know how to ask for help when they need it!"

"But I heard the Rancher talking to his son," she continued her story. "He said this Eagle must have been hurt during that big hailstorm we had yesterday. I tell you, he is one lucky Regal Eagle, to find his way into our barn."

"So then, what happened, Maggie?" Cloverdale prompted her to finish the story.

"Oh, that's all, Cloverdale. Nothing else has happened, that I know. The Rancher has called the Forest Rangers to come here soon, to get that Regal Eagle and take him back to his mountain. He's a long, long way from his home, I guess."

Maggie thought for a moment. "Of course, he must get all healed before he can fly again," she finished.

And that was all Cloverdale could learn from Maggie.

So he sat on his post, thinking, while Maggie stood and dozed off to sleep.

He looked up at the haymow. He could see the large rabbit cage, and just a small part of the Regal Eagle's proud head.

'Well,' thought Cloverdale, 'if I'm going to be an Explorer Mouse, I think I can begin right now!'

And with that thought, he climbed down from his post, past Old Mike, who was still snoring, and began to climb up the secret trail to the haymow.

When he arrived beside the cage, he could see that Regal Eagle was trying to sleep, but his wing was hurting and he kept moving his position, trying to get comfortable.

From this close, Cloverdale was able to see the hurt places where the cruel hailstones had cut through feathers.

He looked at the large sharp curved beak, so very different from that of Old Mike, or Henrietta the Red Hen.

"Oh, how beautiful you are," whispered Cloverdale. "You are quite strange, Regal Eagle, and I think you are proud because you are hurt and still not afraid of anything!"

Suddenly, Cloverdale realized he was not afraid, either.

He cleared his throat, and began to speak.

He told the Regal Eagle who he was, and where he lived.

He talked about his family, his father, his mother and brothers, and even his sister.

He told about Old Mike the Gander, and Bessie the Cow, and Henrietta the Red Hen with all her baby chicks.

He told about Maggie the Bay Horse, and Max the Dog.

In fact, by the time he finished telling about all the people in the barn, his throat was very dry and he could see that the Regal Eagle had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep.

"I'll come back later with food for you, Regal Eagle," he whispered quietly, "I'll be back soon!"

All the rest of the afternoon, he made busy trips back up to the haymow, each time carrying a bundle filled with the choicest grains he could find.

He was just slipping the last of these into the cage, when he noticed that a fierce yellow eye was staring down at him.

"Oh, er, hello....uh, Regal Eagle," he stuttered.
"You're awake. How do you feel? I've brought food for you."

Cloverdale stopped talking, and just stood where he was, looking up into that piercing eye.

Regal Eagle moved slightly, and now Cloverdale could see two piercing eyes.

"Welcome to our home, Regal Eagle," he tried again, even though his voice was slightly thin and squeaking.

"I am a Regal Eagle," said the Eagle. "Why do you stare so at me?"

"I'm s‑sorry, Regal Eagle," said Cloverdale bravely, "but if you'll pardon my saying so, YOU are staring at ME!"

Regal Eagle ignored his comment.

"Are you that small creature who talked without end while I was trying to sleep?

"Let me see, what did you say your name was?Clobbersomething....is your name Clobbersomething?"

"My name is Cloverdale, Regal Eagle, and I'm very pleased to meet you."

Cloverdale was delighted to be talking to the Regal Eagle at last, and he wished his mother could hear how polite he could be to fierce strangers.

Ah, what an Adventure he was having! He was already a real Explorer Mouse!

He had many questions to ask of Regal Eagle, but it was time to leave and go home. His mother would be worrying if he was late for supper.

"It's getting late, Regal Eagle. I have to go home now. But I'll come back in the morning, if you don't mind."

Cloverdale peered hopefully up into that fierce face.

The Eagle eyes continued to stare down at Cloverdale, with an unblinking stare.

Finally he spoke, gently.

"I am a Regal Eagle," said the Eagle, "and you may return in the morning.

"I think we will become good friends. Until then, good flying, Little Mouse."

Cloverdale was pleased to be spoken to in such a grown‑up manner.

He stood as tall as he could, and said, "Good night to you also, my friend, Regal Eagle....I wish you a very good night!"

As Cloverdale skipped through the long warm tunnels back toward his home, he thought about something told to him by Old Mike, an old barn saying,

"Me is Me. You are You. They are We, and All are One."

He skipped because he now knew the meaning of that old saying.

It meant that even though a Regal Eagle and an Explorer Mouse might not look exactly alike, they could still be friends.

And with that, he skipped happily all the way home.