64 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



dancing was taking place. It very much resem- 

 bled a fight; and soon I realized that such it 

 really was, though it had a most absurdly comic 

 side to it. The fray was a three-cornered affair. 

 The first fellow fled in circles; the second fol- 

 lowed him ; and the third brought up the rear. I 

 decided that it was two cocks fighting, and that 

 the cause at issue, and root of the trouble, was 

 merely following the contestants. They whirled 

 about the hill at lightning speed, running on legs 

 that fairly spun, or dashing short snatches on the 

 wing, through the set or over the dancers. The 

 second fellow had blood in his eye, and the first — 

 evidently an interloper, who was not wanted — 

 lacked the courage or fiber to turn and fight it 

 out. Yet when the pursuer caught him, they bit 

 and held on with a grip like bull-dogs, and rolled 

 over, and beat each other with their wings, and 

 shed each other's feathers. The interloper always 

 got thumped, but not until he was properly 

 mauled would he retreat. Then he came in front 

 of my blind and stood with drooping wings and 

 beak agape, and for a time panted weakly and 

 dejectedly. When he regained his wind, he was 

 ready for the next round of fighting and running 

 — and he always got it. He lasted for three fast 



