THE KITE. 117 



ing tea in the open when I felt a flap on my nose, and the 

 cup was rudely dashed to the ground but I never saw 

 the kite ; nor is this the only occasion on which a kite 

 burglariously attacked me in fact, T kept always ready 

 for them latterly. Their dexterity is something marvel- 

 lous ; never have I been scratched by their talons, though 

 I have had bread snatched out of my very hand. It is 

 this wonderful management of wing and foot that makes 

 the kite, in spite of his shabby brown plumage and 

 general appearance as of a small eagle run to seed, such a 

 beautiful and interesting bird to watch at his task of sca- 

 venging. Whatever his mark is, he always takes it with 

 his feet, and holding it therein, he will, if the object be 

 small enough, and his companions do not interfere, dine on 

 it in mid-air. So rooted is this habit that when he is mak- 

 ing a light supper on the delicious and succulent white-ant 

 as it swarms, he ceremoniously seizes even this minute 

 prey in one foot instead of snapping it up with his bill. 

 The only time he breaks his rule of " feet before bill " is 

 when he is carrying sticks for his nest, at which time he 

 may often be seen with his load in his beak. This seems 

 a peculiarly senseless habit, but it is quite possible that the 

 Kite's idea is to have his feet free for fighting, for he 

 relies on his talons rather than his bill in this also. Every- 

 one has seen how, of two bickering Kites, the lower bird 

 will turn on his back to receive the swoop of the upper, till 

 with locked talons they go slowly spinning towards the 

 ground ; generally having sense enough to let go before 

 they reach it, however. On the ground the Kite is not at 

 home ; he walks in a stiff-legged fashion., and gets under 



