Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
Atalapha, and he flew with the dwindling troop 
his father led, till the roaring Saranac was blue be- 
neath their wings. 
WINGS AND FRIENDSHIPS 
Atalapha had been growing all winter. His 
father no longer looked so very big and strong; 
indeed the son had dimly felt that the once big 
Bat was shrinking strangely. He himself was 
two heads wider in his wing expanse, and the dull 
yellow of his body fur had given place to rich ochre 
and amber brown with a wonderful frosting like 
silvery snow bespread on banks of gold. But these 
things he neither knew nor thought of; his con- 
scious pride was this: the speed and strength and 
tireless force of his glorious silken wings. 
On his wings he took his prey. 
On his wings he eluded the Owls and late-flying 
Hawks or climbing beasts that were his only foes. 
On his wings he raced with his fellows or skidded 
and glided, pirouetted and curveted in the air, 
playing pranks with Owl and Nighthawk as a 
greyhound plays round a Bear. 
The appetite for food might quickly flag, but 
the joy of speeding like a falling star while the 
tang wind of the dawn went whistling past his 
ears, the glory of a lightning swift career, with 
168 
