THE OUTLAW 119 



a relentless and swift whirling speck above 

 them, ever climbing. 



Then one of the duck was falling, the 

 flight was scattered; the falling one clutched 

 and borne to the beechwood, where the 

 hooked beak tore and ripped. 



Thenceforward the wood became a place 

 of terror. One morning the keeper discovered 

 a cock pheasant lying dead on the leaves. A 

 small part of its breast had been eaten. At 

 first he thought that it was the work of a 

 fox but he was puzzled; he knew that 

 the fox usually ate more of a longtail than 

 a small part of its breast, and always buried 

 his half-eaten victim for consumption on 

 another occasion. And on turning it over, 

 he was still more puzzled. The back was 

 ripped as though a knife had slashed and 

 turned the skin right back. 



A hundred yards away he found a carrion 

 crow. The back of the crow was also 

 smashed, although no attempt had been made 

 to eat any section of its body. In other 



