THE BROWN HY/ENA 51 



hopelessly ; gasping he dies asphyxiated though 

 surrounded by air amid a host of dying fish. 

 High in the ether appears a single soaring speck ; 

 then another, and another. 



A rush of wings. An asvogel vulture has settled 

 near the carcase ; it is rapidly joined by others, 

 sweeping down like smuts from a chimney ; the air 

 is now full of swaying specks. Silently they 

 examine the carcase, hesitating lest any life yet 

 linger ; then they hop sideways to it, and begin to 

 peck out the eyes. Their beaks are too feeble to 

 penetrate the leathery hide of the porpoise ; they 

 must wait till it decomposes, or till further assistance 

 arrives. Far in the distance, with the declining sun, 

 rises the curfew wail of a jackal sign of oncoming 

 night. 



Three or four strandwolves suddenly appear at 

 the edge of the sand belt ; presently they steal 

 across towards the porpoise, and are joined by others 

 slinking through the bush. The banquet is soon in 

 full swing ; the tough hide, torn open by iron jaws, 

 is rent in fragments, and the luckless porpoise 

 entirely hidden by a growling, grunting, gorging 

 mass of hyaenas, jackals, and vultures. Now and 

 then a vulture hops aside, endeavouring to swallow 

 a huge morsel far too big for it ; many of the birds 

 are right inside the carcase. Night suddenly closes 

 on the scene, as if shut down by an extinguisher. 



Morning. Not a sign remains of the feast save 



