There was once a byrd, err, bird, who had waited far too long to fly south for the winter. Finally, he decided he must be on his way or he would die, so off he flew. As he made his way down out of the cold north and was crossing Montana, a cold wind began to blow and then a early winter storm raged. The byrd, errr, bird, got colder and colder and soon fell to the earth, expecting to soon pass from this existance. He had been on the ground no more than two minutes when a passing buffalo...