High up on a rocky mountain peak, where the air was cool and the clouds felt close enough to touch, lived a vulture named Victor. Victor had strong brown feathers, orange feet, and a very large, powerful beak. He spent his days standing tall on his favorite rock, watching the world below.
Unlike some other birds, Victor didn’t sing or dance. He was a watcher. He had sharp eyes that could see a tiny lizard moving from miles away.
One afternoon, Victor saw a group of hikers walking along a narrow trail near the river. Suddenly, a strong gust of mountain wind blew a hat right off a hiker’s head and sent it flying down into a deep, rocky canyon.
”Oh no!” the hiker cried. “That’s my favorite hat!”
Victor watched from his high spot. He knew exactly where the hat had landed, hidden behind a large gray stone. Victor spread his wide wings and glided down through the air. He didn’t even have to flap much; he just rode the wind like a professional pilot.
He landed gently near the hat, picked it up with his strong beak, and flew to a flat rock right next to the trail. He dropped the hat and gave a loud “Caw!” to get their attention.
The hikers were amazed. “Look! The vulture found it!”
Victor returned to his high mountain home. He realized that being a “watcher” was a very important job. From that day on, Victor the Vulture felt like the guardian of the mountains, always keeping his sharp eyes open to help anyone in need.