Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of the Whispering Woods, dappling the backs of a herd of deer grazing in the meadow next to a crystalline stream. Red squirrels jumped from branch to branch chasing one another and high above, a hawk drifted lazily on the wind.

A sharp snap echoed from the undergrowth. From his vantage point in the sky, the hawk spotted a tiny orange spark dancing amidst the dry brush. Realizing the danger, he let out a shrill, piercing cry that shattered the afternoon calm.

Panic rippled through the meadow. The deer bolted, wild boars, squirrels, and badgers scrambled through the dense thickets, running toward the perimeter where the trees thinned. Gathered at the safety of the forest’s edge, the animals watched helplessly as the wind picked up and fed the fire. Branches snapped like dry bones, thick black smoke swallowed the sky and a wall of orange flames began to consume their home.

All the animals stood paralyzed with fear, except for Ysée.

Ysée was a tiny hummingbird, her iridescent green wings glinting like emeralds against the thick grey smoke. She darted down to a muddy trickle of water and, dipping her minuscule beak into the wet earth, scooped up a single drop.

With a furious beat of her wings, she flew directly toward the raging inferno. Hovering just above the crackling perimeter, she released the drop onto the flames and immediately sped back to the trickle for more.

A crow sitting upon a bare branch looked down in disbelief. “What are you doing, little hummingbird?” she called out, her voice tinged with skepticism. “You can do nothing with that tiny beak of yours.”

Ysée didn’t waste her breath replying. She zipped back into the smoke, a second drop of water in her mouth.

When Ysée returned for a third drop, a black weasel stepped forward. “Look at the tiny, silly bird! She thinks she can put out a forest fire by herself.” He snickered. “How ridiculous!”

“She’s going to die in there,” a squirrel chattered nervously from a branch above, hugging his tail.

Ysée ignored the taunts, and as she dipped her beak once more, a blue-black swallow dived out of the sky to join her.

A badger looked at the two birds, then down at the muddy trickle of water, and began to dig furiously in the earth, clearing away rocks and roots. Within moments, the choked, muddy trickle opened up, growing into a thin stream of clear water.

The badger reared up and looked at the crowd of animals. “Come!” he roared. “We must save our forest!”

A large, battle-scarred boar with gleaming tusks stepped forward. “The buck and I will form the command post,” he ordered, his deep voice carrying over the fire’s roar. The majestic deer stepped up beside him and nodded firmly.

The boar looked up at the highest branches. “Great Eagle, take the western flank and track the wind.” With a mighty spread of her wings, the eagle soared into the sky.

The buck cried out, “Hawk, head south and report the speed of the flames.” The hawk gave a sharp screech and wheeled away.

A large grey wolf stepped out from the shadows. “My pack and I shall climb the northern crags to survey the fire lines.” Their slender, powerful bodies instantly vanished into the rocky trails.

More badgers arrived, their powerful claws tearing through the thick roots until a steady stream of water surged forth. Hundreds of hummingbirds, kingfishers, and swallows joined Ysée at the growing stream. A flock of ravens flew, half to the south and half to the north flank of the fire to join the aerial lookout.

The eagle, the hawk, and wolves relayed wind speed, smoke patterns, and fire lines back to the command post. A team of wild boars rushed to the western flank, using their broad snouts and powerful shoulders to shove massive mounds of dirt and suffocate the advancing fire.

On the ground, squirrels gathered dried acorns and grass, while little bear cubs plucked wild berries from the brambles, creating stockpiles of food to nourish the workers. Lowering their heads, the doe and her fawn prayed for rain while a white dove soared silently, imploring the fierce winds to calm.

Suddenly, the hawk shrieked a new warning: small creatures were still trapped in the burning forest. At the buck’s command, a sleek band of river otters slid into the stream, which had now become a small river, and disappeared into the burning woods. Hundreds of frogs prepared the riverbank for the arrivals. Soon the otters emerged from the smoke, swimming on their backs. Terrified baby rabbits and slow-moving box turtles floated on their bellies. The otters carefully deposited them on the banks, then immediately swam back into the danger zone.

The fire snaked down into the earth, burning through hidden root systems. Keen-nosed coyotes pressed their snouts to the hot soil, tracking the scent of subterranean burning. Wherever they pawed at the earth, a dedicated team of moles tunneled down immediately, clearing away root pathways and cutting off the fire below the surface.

High on the crags, the wolves threw back their heads and let out a long, rhythmic howl. It was the signal. The beavers pulled loose the logs of their dams and a towering wall of trapped water broke free, flooding the woods and drenching the approaching wall of flames in a massive explosion of hissing steam.

As the smoke cleared, the exhausted animals gathered along the banks of the new river, gratefully sharing the acorns, berries, and grass the smaller animals had harvested. Ysée fluttered to the ground, her tiny lungs heavy with smoke, and her feathers covered with grey ash. The great buck stepped forward. “Little hummingbird,” he said, his voice rich and deep. “You now must stop. It is time to rest.”

Twilight settled over the earth and the fierce, angry wind diminished into a breeze, pushing the remaining flames toward the open ocean. The eagle, the hawk, the ravens, and the wolves returned from their strategic lookouts. As the darkness deepened, thousands of tiny fireflies lit up the night sky. The wise owls flew low over the forest and reported that only a few embers remained.

Tiny raindrops began to fall, and soon their soft patter turned into a steady pour, washing away the soot and cooling the scorched earth. It rained throughout the night, and when the morning sun broke over the Whispering Woods, the flames were completely extinguished.

“We must congratulate Ysée,” the boar declared, “The little hummingbird’s courage woke the forest. She is a true hero!”

The animals burst into a roaring applause. Ysée fluttered up into the morning light, her iridescent green wings catching the golden sunbeams like a brilliant jewel. She hovered before the crowd and shook her head gently.

“No,” Ysée said, her tiny voice ringing clearly. “I was just doing my little part.” She paused, gazing across the sea of faces. “The forest is safe today, not only because each of us did our own little part, but because we did it together.”

This story is adapted from the American Indian Legend of the Colibri. Hummingbird drawing: Dorothy Vera