Eldwood Post was a rickety ranch along the Eldwood trail, and a frequent stop for travelers. Small and practically lost in the vast landscape, it looked like a dollhouse cast among the dunes of the stretching desert. Dust and age had stained the wood grey and tan, sand filling each and every crevice. The building itself was accompanied with a network of fences behind it, where numerous horses and cattle were kept. The gentle neighing and mooing in the background gave it a very peaceful aspect. An aspect that wasn't necessarily common out west these days.

Panchito, Donald, and José arrived just after nightfall, the warm colors of dusk painting the sky with yellows, and pinks, and dark, blossoming purples. A few stars twinkled on the Eastern horizon, promising a cool evening filled with bright, shining points of light far above. Already, the chill of evening was moving it, the warmth retreating with the setting sun. It cast a beautiful blue haze over the dunes, bathing them in twilight. It was calming, and gentle. Peaceful.

Panchito dismounted by the porch of Eldwood Post, holding the reigns in his hand as he slid to the ground, before tying it to the nearby rail. He really wasn't concerned about Señor Martinez running off, even if he didn't tie him tightly in place. The horse was loyal, and never left his master's side. The rooster, however, encouraged by example so that his two partners would take the precaution. Their steeds, though well trained, were nothing in their behavior like Panchito's own horse, and he highly suspected that, should they be given the chance, the two animals would wander off back to the fort if left to their own devices.

The rooster had been highly amused by his companions' riding skills. Though they had been briefed and taught over the last few months how to properly ride a horse, it was still a practice they had yet to master. Of the two, Donald had better control, his stern nature and no-nonsense attitude was sensed by the beast he rode on, and that helped a little. Though, Donald's natural knack for trouble caused the horse to always head in the opposite direction than he wanted. But the duck, in his own resourceful way, decided that he would just always give the opposite command that he wanted, and therefore got the horse to move the way he intended. It was a little unorthodox, but it seemed to be working well for him.

José was doing little better, and had actually become quite flustered. Though he had always found that riding on the back of Señor Martinez was nerve wracking, controlling his own beast had proved to be doubly so. The creature, Panchito knew, could sense José's nervousness, which only succeeded in making the horse nervous itself. It had become edgy, and finicky, and Panchito and Donald had had to wait as José was forced to remount, having been thrown right off his beast's back. More than once. That, naturally, only made José even more uneasy.

Panchito had managed to keep his smile hidden, knowing that, as time passed, his partners would get the hang of it all. They just needed a little time, and experience. And the only way to get that was through practice. Real life practice. Something that no amount of training could ever truly give them. The trick was just keeping them from quiting before that goal was reached.

Donald and José dismounted as well, tying their horses to the rail as they had seen their friend do. They each took a deep breath as they stepped back, releasing whatever frustration they had gained on the trip. It worked, and they instantly felt their tensions leave. Donald looked at the small building before them, perhaps a little skeptically. "Is this where we're staying the night?" he asked, raising a brow as Panchito proceeded up the few steps of the wooden-planked porch.

Panchito looked over his shoulder at the duck, giving one of his winning smiles. "Si, amigo. I know it's small, but it will do well until tomorrow. It is too far to Everhaze Valley Canyon to make it there tonight." His smile grew. "Besides, the people who live here are old friends of my family."

José was shaking off the remainder of his unease, grateful that he was now standing on his own two feet again. "But shouldn't we try and get to Everhaze as soon as possible? We could save time by riding through the night."

The rooster sent him an amused glance. "At the speed you two travel, we would not save any time at all," he teased gently. "Besides, a good rest might be what would be most wise." His expression became slightly more serious. "We don't know what we will face tomorrow." Panchito finished climbing the steps, reaching a hand out to give the old, wooden door before him a knock, but his hand never even made contact.

In a blur of colorful fabric, the door was swung open. A middle-aged hen flung herself at Panchito, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she cheered at the top of her lungs. "Panchito! Oh, Heavens! Heavens! It's been so long! How have you been?!" Her bright, gold-flecked eyes shone with joy and laughter, almost like those of a child on Christmas morning, but with an air of motherly coddling hidden beneath. She was considerably larger than Panchito, and stronger, keeping the young rooster completely immobile as she greeted him. She held the ruffled rooster before her at arms length, looking him over in a way that reminded Donald of Aunt Gertie*, who always smothered Huey, Dewey, and Louie with the same level of intense affection.

Panchito, to his partners amusement, actually looked a little embarrassed. He was trying to squirm his way out of the hen's grasp, but she was not about to release him so easily. He muttered a quick, "I am well," in Spanish, before the woman launched into another string of joyful shouting. Her hold had trapped the rooster's arms to his sides, and he could not free himself without being rude. So he waited as she shouted over her shoulder toward the little cottage.

"Adelmo! Adelmo, we have guests! It is Panchito! And he brought friends!"

"PANCHITO!"

The enthused shout was almost louder than that of the hen, and a moment later a rather large, well-built rooster was running out the door and into sight. His eyes widened and his beak broke into a great, big grin, a wall of white with a few missing teeth. As his wife moved aside, Adelmo grasped both of Panchito's hands and shook them excitedly, so hard that Panchito had to try hard not to let his beak clack together noisily from the pure energy the fellow greeted him. "It is so good to see you, my friend! It has been such a long time since we have seen you!" Adelmo continued pumping the smaller rooster's arms until Panchito finally succeeded in removing himself. He took a deep breath, trying to regain some ounce of dignity. Needless to say, it was rather entertaining to see Panchito so uncomfortable around someone even more boisterous than himself, and Donald and José had to try hard not to laugh out loud at the expression on their friend's face.

"Oh, sí. Sí." the frazzled rooster smiled, rubbing the warm friction from his hands. "Helen, Adelmo, it is good to see you both again as well." Stepping back a little, he slid a hand behind Donald and José's backs, pushing them forward with a chuckle. The two agents suddenly lost their amused grins as they found themselves now efficiently placed between Panchito and the two, madly grinning faces of their hosts. "These are my new partners, Donald and José. They joined the USM Border Secret Service a few months ago. Isn't that right, mes amigos?" His friends both gave a nervous nod, just before they were enveloped in the arms of the excited hen, Helen, at the same time as being greeted by Adelmo in the same way Panchito had been. By the time the greetings had been made, the two stood, ruffled and unkempt, not really sure what had happened.

"It is very nice to meet friends of Panchito's," Helen hummed happily, still holding onto their hands gently, taking them in like sweet, little children. "We've known the dear boy since he was nothing but a hatchling. His mother and him used to come and visit, isn't that right, Adelmo?"

"That's right!" He gave Panchito's shoulder a very light punch, grinning. "Ya were an energetic little scamp, ya were!" He completely missed the looks that both Donald and José sent Panchito. A pleading look, as though they wished to step back, but couldn't, seeing as Helen still had a grip of their shoulders. She had always done that.

Panchito smiled fondly, placing his feathered hands on his hips in amusement, having gladly turned the tables on his friends. He hadn't expected the reunion with this couple to be so...enthusiastic. They were the closest thing he had to family, outside of his mother, who lived in a region quite a distance from the fort. Though, despite their close friendship, he was sorry to admit that he saw them very rarely. So, in a way, he deserved such rigorous a welcome. If he came around more often, perhaps it would be a little toned down. Though he doubted it. But, at least, he had been able to share the experience with his friends. Though he'd have to watch out for a few days, they'd surely try and get back at him for it sooner or later.

Turning to the happy couple, Panchito gestured to their horses, who still stood, breathing heavily by the post. "Is it alright to keep them here, or would you rather we put them someplace else?" The last thing he wanted was to get on bad terms with these folks. While incredibly pleasant when happy, when mad, they were both a fearful sight. Just as passionate in whatever emotion.

"Oh, what beautiful beasts," Helen exclaimed sweetly, hands clasped before her as though she were looking at the very gates of Heaven. She stepped down, coming up to Senor Martinez, rubbing the horses nose when he lowered it toward her. She chuckled, making clicking noises with her tongue while Senor Martinez whinnied pleasantly. This woman obviously had an unusual taste in beauty. The horses were filthy, sweaty and worn from the long journey from the fort. They were anything but beautiful. "Oh, we wouldn't dream of leaving them out in the open. What if they should run off. No, no. You may put them in the pen with our horses. That way they'll be fed and watered in the process."

Panchito looked humbled. "Are you sure? I mean, it won't be any trouble?"

"Not at all," Adelmo declared heartily, slapping his friend hard upon the back. It was meant to be all in kidding, but the force very nearly knocked Panchito off his feet. Only Donald and José's quick reflexes saved him from taking a tumble, as they both shot out a hand to help him regain his balance. "Here, I'll give you a hand," their host continued, oblivious. "Then we'll all go in and eat. Helen's gone and made us a nice cactus stew. Loads of the stuff, a whole pot full! I hope yer hungry!" He latched onto Panchito's arm and started dragging him off down the steps, leading the way they would take the horses to the pen. The rooster agent sent a slightly pleading glance toward his friend before he and Adelmo disappeared from view around the corner of the corral.

That left Donald and José with Helen.

"Come, come, boys," she clucked, fluffing her apron excitedly. "I'll need help setting the table. If we work together, we can get it done before those two get back!" She took each agent by the wrist and hurriedly pulled them inside, both birds stumbling to follow, but trying not to trip over the hem of the hen's skirt in the process. They made it in just before the the door was shut firmly behind them.

Cactus stew was actually a lot tastier than one might expect. It was soft, and creamy, with a consistency that reminded one of pale, green oatmeal. Chunks of well-cooked meat swam within it, brown islands in a sea of green. Bits of potato added to the pastel colored meal, its aroma strong but appetizing. It was warm, all the way from the bowl into their stomachs, and only then did the trio realize just how hungry they really were. Panchito had a habit of skipping meals while on a mission, claiming that when he was working, he simply didn't have time for eating. Over the past five months, Donald and José had slowly slipped into a similar routine. They could go quite a time without food, only becoming aware of it when they paused long enough to notice. Either that, or if food was placed in front of them. And this, quite honestly, was one of those times. They dug into the meal with a will, keeping in mind their manners, though they probably looked uncommonly like a pack of ravenous wolves.

It was a pleasant experience for the agents. After all, they had just got back from one mission, just before starting this one. They had not had a decent, home cooked meal in what felt like ages. It was a little slice of Heaven, each bite warming and calming, freeing the tension in them they hadn't even realized existed. It reminded each of them of someone they cared for. For Panchito, it was his mother's cooking, though she would have probably used more spice to warm its taste. For Donald, it was his girlfriend, Daisy, who still believed, along with the rest of his family, that he was in the Navy. She was quite a cook. And for José , he was simply swept away by memories of the tastes and sounds of Brazil. It caused the smallest twinge of homesickness within him, but not enough to ruin the experience.

Needless to say, together, they made short order of that stew.

As the eating slowed down to a light munching, Panchito decided it was time to bring about the business that had brought them to Eldwood Post to begin with. While it had been good to rest momentarily, it was time to start investigating the goings on in Everhaze Valley Canyon. Clearing his throat, the red rooster started up the conversation.

"According to the letter," he began, "you two were the ones who found that the village in Everhaze was empty."

"Yep. Empty as can be." Adelmo waved his hand toward the tabletop, indicating the remains of the meal. "It was like they all packed up and left in a hurry. Place was a wreck; trashed, with windows and doors smashed open. Very odd. Even their lunches were still lying out on their tables."

José frowned. Adelmo was right. If the people had left of their own free will, they would have taken their possessions and food with them. The fact that so much was left behind, and in such poor shape, was highly suspicious. Setting down his fork and spoon, the parrot abandoned what was left of his food, too intrigued to care about his stomach any longer. His mind was already spinning into full gear, countless possibilities popping up, with various explanations following fast in their wake. Sitting up a little straighter, he gave a question of his own. "There wasn't a sign of anyone?"

Adelmo shrugged, placing the last mouthful of stew in his beak, chewing before answering, swallowing noisily. "No one except Chitter." He handed his empty bowl to his wife, giving her a loving smile, completely unaware of the shock his statement had cost his guests.

"Chitter?" Donald repeated forcibly, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. This was the first he had heard of the name, and yet Adelmo spoke of the individual as though they should all know exactly who he was talking about. His smile was fond, like one might appear when talking of a well loved pet. But, as far as Donald knew, there were no dogs or cats on the post. At least, not that he had seen. He supposed that he might have missed it, but somehow he had a feeling that this was not what he was expecting at all.

"Well yes!" Helen beamed, starting to gather up the other dirty dishes off the table as she spoke. The clatter of the bowls mixed with the musical tone of her voice. "Or, at least, that's what we call him." She shook her head with a cluck of her tongue. "Can't understand a thing the fella says. All he does is chitter, which is why we gave him that name. Couldn't very well go about calling him 'hey you'. He's one of the natives who lived in the village that disappeared."

All three agents were dumbfounded, beaks hanging open. Panchito was the first to recover, his indignant voice breaking the silence. "Why wasn't that in the letter?!" He was feeling a little frustrated. While he cared for this couple deeply, almost as an extension of his small family, it could not be denied that they were not the smartest individuals. They were simple folk, untouched by the troubles that Panchito himself had seen in his lifetime. And he secretly hoped it would always remain that way. But this...This was impeding their progress.

"Don't know." Adelmo shrugged once again. "Probably 'cause we didn't tell anyone."

Panchito let out a sharp, frustrated sigh, running a hand down the side of his face. He gathered his patience, not wanting to lose his temper in front of his kindly friends and hosts. The deep breath helped, and after a moment he moved on. "Where is he?"

Adelmo rose to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor slightly as he stood excitedly. "He's outside in the barn. He prefers it out there. More like home, you know?" He headed for the door. "I'll go fetch him." With that, he disappeared from view, his heavy footsteps sounding outside on the porch until he left it for the soft sand and grass beyond.

"He's a very excitable little fellow, you understand," Helen explained, referring to their mysterious guest. "He's been chittering on and off since we found him, but we can't understand a word of it. We don't speak the dialect, you see. Plus, he's just too plain hard to understand!"

Donald gave a light grunt of agreement. He did understand. He couldn't even count the times he had said something to someone, and they had failed to understand what he was saying. His unusual voice, which Donald was well aware he had, made it hard for his words to come out clearly. While it usually didn't bother the duck, there were times he got frustrated with playing charades with some people. Thankfully, Panchito and José had always been able to understand him perfectly. A blessing, whether they knew it or not. But Donald could definitely relate to this stranger. It was always terribly frustrating to be misunderstood.

Panchito looked curious. "What language did this town speak?" he asked, wishing that he had had more time to do a little more research on the mission before leaving Fort Cawford. He had never even been to Everhaze Valley Canyon, and knew very little of the people who lived there.

Helen smiled. "Oh, something like Acackin...No, or was it Aucayin?" She frowned, for perhaps the first time that night, brow furrowed as she tried various combinations of the word. "Alcinine? Acordian?"

"Aracuan?" José offered meekly, knowing that that was what the woman was searching for. He didn't want to appear impolite.

The hen beamed, a loud laugh bursting forth. "Aracuan! Yes, that's it! It was a village of Aracuan immigrants. They've lived there for a number of years now, and Adelmo and I often supplied them with food and clothing during the winter, until they were able to do so themselves." She chuckled musically. "Never managed to pick up the language though. Far too complicated."

José was now even more interested, his memory bringing up a number of things he had learned over the years. He had always loved geography, and even though he had never had a ton of schooling, he did know a few things. One could learn a lot, simply by talking with friendly travelers passing through the markets of Brazil. "I thought they were native to South America?" He had never met one, they were exceedingly rare, but he had heard of them.

Helen nodded. "I believe so. They came up this way, though I can't quite say why, because I don't have a clue. From what I understand, South America is beautiful. Why they would swap that for the deserted crevices of Everhaze Valley is beyond me."

Panchito slowly agreed. It was rather odd. He had seen South America, and it was indeed a beautiful place. Not quite his idea of home, but certainly José's choice. Why would so many rare individuals risk the trials of building a new life for themselves? And in Everhaze Valley Canyon of all places. Surely there were better places, going by Helen's description. It left an uneasy feeling in the pit of the rooster's gut, though he had no idea why.

The sound of Adelmo's heavy footfalls, accompanied by a much lighter, faster pair, caught everyone's attention. Turning, they were greeted by the sight of their host stepping through the door, a much smaller bird following at his side. He was of unusual colors, a faded reddish pink being the hue of most of his feathers. Except for the longer ones on his head, which were distinctly red. He had a long, pointed beak, from which above it two, large, curious eyes glanced about, not in a nervous way, but with complete trust and ease of mind. His legs, which were featherless, were long and slim. He wore a white, cotton shirt, with a single, faded blue strip circling the middle and both sleeves. It was a little big for him, but he certainly didn't seem to mind.

Adelmo came to the center of the room, gesturing to their new guest with a bright smile. "Gentlemen, this is Chitter."

The three agents blinked in surprise. Such a small fellow. They somehow had been expecting someone at least their own height. But this bird barely even made it past half that, giving him the appearance of an older hatchling. But they could tell, just by his manner that he was no child. But, then again, his childish nature, evident just by the curious way he was taking in the room and its occupants, with a large smile, made it obvious that he was very child-like, if anything. Certainly friendly.

As the leader of his team, Panchito decided it was his duty to start off communication, at least to the best of his ability, with this fellow. The Agency would want to be on good terms with the village...assuming that the village still existed somewhere. Wherever the inhabitants had gone off to. Moving slowly, so as not to spook the small bird, Panchito edged up from his seat, coming to crouch in front of the fellow. Chitter gazed up at him, his face nothing but smile and trust. He was perfectly at ease, not moving an inch as the rooster finally made it down to his level.

"Hola, Chitter," he began, keeping his tone as friendly as he possibly knew how. "My name is Panchito Pistoles." He gestured slowly toward his teammates. "And these are my friends, Donald and José. We are agents sent here to determine what happened to your village. Do you - Hey!" Panchito gave a yelp, falling back in surprise as Chitter all at once lunged forward, plucking his tan sombrero right of his head, placing it on his own with an excited series of fast, complicated words in a language no one in the room understood.

With a chitter true to his name, the colorful bird started prancing about, the weight and size of the sombrero almost hiding him completely from view as it sagged about him. He seemed fascinated by the object, excited with child-like energy.

"He's very excitable," Helen explained again, watching as the Aracuan started running laps around the table.

Panchito felt a little annoyed. He cared for his sombrero quite a bit, seeing as it meant a lot to him, due to his past, and he wasn't too pleased with the treatment it was now receiving. "I can see that," he answered, little humor in his voice. He took a deep breath, again to clear away his temper. He tried again. "Amigo," he called, as the small bird ran by him. "We are here to help you. Do you know what happened to your village?" He managed to grab a hold of the Aracuan's shoulders on the fellow's fifteenth round about the table. He crouched again, lifting the sombrero so he was once again greeted by those bright, smiling eyes. But there was no understanding in them. This bird knew no English.

"Does he speak Spanish?" he inquired of his friends. Seeing as they had been around Chitter for over a week, he hoped that maybe they had had better luck.

Adelmo shook his head. "Not a word."

Panchito sighed, letting his hands slide gently off Chitter's shoulders, allowing the bird to take off once more running in circles around the kitchen furniture. "I wish that one of us knew how to speak Aracuan," was all he could say. The Service trained agents to speak quite a few languages. Sadly, Aracuan was not one of them.

José chuckled, slipping out from his place at the table and taking his turn to crouch on the floor. Chitter came to a halt beside him, all smiles, clearly curious of the parrot. The Brazilian's bright, green feathers and pale yellow clothing was surly an unusual sight for the native. He cocked his head to the side, eyes blinking in a way that made José laugh fully. Quickly plucking the sombrero from Chitter's head, José threw it over to a grateful Panchito, unconcerned when Chitter, just as quickly, took the parrot's own hat. José didn't mind. In fact, he had expected it. He smiled as the Aracuan launched into yet another round of excited chittering, an idea slowly coming to him.

"Maybe if we take him with us he'll understand."

"Oh, that's a splendid idea!" Helen exclaimed. "I've had the feeling all week he's been wanting to go back, but was too frightened to go on his own. And we couldn't leave our post then. You might get some sort of an answer if you go there." For the first time since they had arrived, her manner seemed to darken slightly in concern. "He acts differently when he's there."

Panchito nodded, removing his guns from their holsters and holding them up above his head as Chitter tried to grab them out of curiosity. He didn't want their new friend getting hurt. "Very well. We shall head out at sunrise tomorrow morning."

Yay! Chapter three! Not the most exciting chapter, but those will come later. ;)

Yes, the Aracuan Bird. I had a request from one of my readers to include him in my next story. I was so taken with the idea, I decided to give him a pretty large role. ;) Thanks for your patience and your reviews!

*Aunt Gertie was from "Mickey's Once Upon a Christmas".