WILD WINGS: A FAREWELL 299 



prime moment when a grub is being pulled out to 

 make a dash for it. 



There was another bird who took no part at all 

 in the work and play of the others — a kestrel who 

 made the meadows his daily hunting-ground. What 

 he was finding I could not discover as I never saw 

 him lift a vole and it was too late for insects. Anyhow, 

 he was often there and the other birds took not the 

 slightest notice of him; even the smallest in the 

 company, the larks, pipits, and wagtails, knew him 

 for a harmless person. But one day while he was 

 flying about, hovering at intervals and dropping to 

 the earth, a flock of about fifty starlings came flying 

 to the meadow and after circling round as if just 

 going to alight they all at once appeared to change 

 their minds — or mind — and mounting up again until 

 they were about twenty yards above the kestrel, 

 began following his movements, and when he hovered 

 six or seven birds detached themselves from the flock 

 and dropped like stones upon his back. He struck 

 them angrily off and flying a little distance away 

 began searching again; but they followed and no 

 sooner did he hover than down again came half a 

 dozen starlings on to his back. 



After this annoyance had been repeated five or 

 six times he flew away to another part of the meadow 

 and resumed his hunting there. Again the starlings 

 followed and repeated the former action each time he 

 hovered, until in anger and disgust he flew away out 

 of sight, while the starlings, their object gained, 

 dropped down to the meadow and started feeding. 



