46 STORIES Oy BIRD LIFE 



a flourish of Ms wings as if striking at an imaginary antag- 

 onist. He would wave his wings and strike and scream as 

 though tormented by some woodland imp. Once he flopped 

 to the ground and stood a short time, his tail all jammed 

 upward behind him where it had struck a bunch of grass 

 when he lit. In his endeavors to regain the top of the 

 stump the giddiness in his head was evident, for twice he 

 fell back. At the third attempt he succeeded in grasping 

 the side of the stump, and there hung for some time waving 

 his wings about, and shouting wildly as if for help. 



Scarcely had he regained the top when a sharp note of 

 danger sent the flock rushing pell mell for shelter,— all 

 but the one on the stump. He paid no heed. Like a flash 

 a sharp-shinned hawk shot out of the woods straight for 

 the luckless redbreast. Now he seemed vaguely to realize 

 his danger. Kising almost straight in the air he suddenly 

 bore off to the right, barely missing a pine as he did so. 

 Twenty feet farther and, slap, a foot of the hawk struck 

 home and the fluttering robin was borne away. The squall- 

 ing victim fluttered desperately and within fifty yards 

 escaped. The hawk, seeing me running forward with much 

 noise and many flourishes, hastily took himself off. 



Picking up the robin I found his captor had but grasped 

 his tail. This hold had proven ineffectual and by dint of 

 much tugging the robin had escaped, although leaving 



