From Fox's Earth 



put on all its speed. It could put on no more 

 than it had received. But some were quicker 

 than the rest. The slow perished by slow- winged 

 hawks. The quicker survived, to raise quicker 

 broods. And, so the limits of speed were in- 

 creased. That there might be no relaxing of the 

 strain, no resting-place in the course of evolution, 

 on the track of the swifter was the swift-winged 

 falcon. 



Where speed failed, wiles to elude were tried, 

 which test the stroke of the hawk. The pursuer 

 became still more wonderful than the pursued, 

 inasmuch as it had to outfly and outmanoeuvre. 

 Flight was moulded, its forward impulse lent, its 

 every subtle bend and graceful curve acquired in 

 this school. If we have thought otherwise, it will 

 be well to unlearn the rustic creed. 



What tests the hawk tests also the skill of the 

 marksman. But for such discipline, sport were 

 wholly wanting in zest, nor would it have known 

 the supreme test of a flying shot, or how to meet 

 a tricky flight. Only ignorance can excuse the 

 gracelessness with which this debt is repaid. Such 

 is so much of the story of life in the open as is 

 influenced by these two forms. 



If we assume a sculptor, they are the chisel ; a 

 painter, they are the brush. They did every- 

 thing except create. The falcon gave the flight 

 feathers, lengthened and pointed the wing. The 

 eagle touched the plumage with moorland hues, 



