Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
but he realized that this was no longer his home, 
that the bond of the family was broken. So he 
came no more, but sought a den for himself, feeling 
as a child might feel when suddenly dropped from 
being mother’s pet, for whom the world was made, 
to being a poor little outcast. At best now he be- 
longed to the low circle of the young Bats whose 
powers were not yet formed. There was no joy 
in Atalapha’s lone cell those days; but it was the 
beginning of life for him. He learned that he was a 
very unimportant person, and must begin at the 
bottom and go it all alone. This was his humilia- 
tion and his awakening. 
The love dance of the Bats held sway supreme 
through the first few days of August, then, though 
its opening rapture waned, the Red Moon was a 
Honey Moon to its end. And when the Hunting 
Moon came on with shorter days and fewer kinds of 
game, a new unrest possessed the kindred of the 
silken wings. 
Atalapha’s parents would go for long excursions, 
swinging round the Marcy Mount, or sometimes a 
group of many friendly pairs would soar above the 
zone of the midnight game and circle high as though 
trying their wings in some new flight. 
Then came a day of climax. It was in the early 
dawning; all had made their meal; Atalapha was 
162 
