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Badlands Billy 
But she led to the river. After all had 
drunk their fill they lay down on the nearest 
bank till late afternoon. Then their unheard 
dinner-gong aroused them, and started them 
on the backward march to where the richest 
pastures grew. 
One or two small birds had picked at the 
scraps of meat, some blue-bottle flies buzzed 
about, but the sinking sun saw the sandy mask 
untouched. 
A brown Marsh Hawk came skimming over 
the river flat as the sun began his color play. 
Blackbirds dashed into thickets, and easily 
avoided his clumsy pounce. It was too early 
for the Mice, but, as he skimmed the ground, 
his keen eye caught the flutter of feathers by 
the trap and turned his flight. The feathers in 
their uninteresting emptiness were exposed be- 
fore he was near, but now he saw the scraps 
of meat. Guileless of cunning, he alighted 
and was devouring a second lump when— 
clank—the dust was flirted high and the 
Marsh Hawk was held by his toes, struggling 
vainly in the jaws of a powerful wolf-trap. 
He was not much hurt. His ample wings win- 
136 
