CHAP. XL THE PEREGRINE FALCON. 223 



of 300 feet of cliff. Although I had descended thus 

 far, there was no human possibility of my being able 

 to re-ascend by the same path. In such a place 

 alone, and almost powerless bruised and nearly worn 

 out with exertion what could I do ? Throw my- 

 self down, and meet my fate at once, or wait till help 

 should arrive ? But where was help to come from ? 

 Two boats had already passed from Gardenstown, 

 both of which I hailed, but they sailed along on their 

 way. Perhaps they were too far out at sea to hear 

 my cries, or to notice my signals of distress. 



" Despairing of success, I sat down to consider what 

 was next to be done. While thus resting, I observed 

 a falcon (Falco peregrinus) sailing slowly and steadily 

 along, bearing something large in his talons. On he 

 came, seemingly unconscious of my presence, and 

 alighted on a ledge only a few yards from where I 

 sat. I now saw that the object he carried was a 

 partridge. Having fairly settled down with his 

 quarry on the rock, I could not help wondering at and 

 admiring the collected ease and cool composure with 

 which he held his struggling captive (for it was 

 still alive) until death put an end to its sufferings. 

 There was no lacerating with his beak at the body of 

 the poor and unfortunate prisoner, in order, as it were, 

 to hasten its termination ; no expanding of the wing 

 to maintain his equilibrium ; although the last and 

 dying struggle of the bird caused him to quiver a 

 little. 



