142 Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



him, the wily bird cleverly, and apparently with- 

 out the least exertion, shifted to one side, and 

 she missed. The rest of the crows flew off, and 

 the field was left clear for the contest. The 

 falcon rising again, as if on the rebound, made 

 another stoop, which was similarly evaded, and 

 another, and another. Each stoop called forth 

 a groan of excitement from the onlookers. For 

 a time this exceedingly pretty game went on, 

 and it just seemed a case of which of the two 

 could last the longest. A game it looked, for 

 the crow seemed to take matters so easily, and 

 evade his adversary with so little exertion, that 

 one almost forgot he was playing for his life. 

 Suddenly a puff of black feathers. Habet ! The 

 two birds descend slowly together, and all is 

 over. 



The sun had long since flooded the valley, 

 reminding us, if our appetites had not, that the 

 day was getting on, and breakfast still before 

 us. So home was the word. We said good- 

 bye to the Mehtar where our roads parted, he 

 deprecating our thanks for the morning's sport, 

 and ten minutes later we were satisfying our 

 hunter's hunger. The morning had been one 

 which, for beauty of scenery and general pictur- 

 esqueness, not to mention the wonderful skill 

 exhibited by these hillmen in training the wild- 



