68 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 
tightened their grasp; and even if he had been 
able to free himself, it would only have been to 
fall that vast distance through the void air and 
be crushed on the earth. 
Then all at once the bird’s flight grew swifter 
and rose higher, for now a second kite had appeared, 
and had given chase to the first to deprive him of 
his prey. 
The first, burdened with the squirrel, could not 
escape from his persecutor, and they were soon at 
close quarters. The marauding bird now began 
making furious swoops at the other, aiming blows 
at his back with his claws, and every time he 
swooped down he uttered savage cries and mock- 
ings. “ Aha!” he cried, “you can’t save yourself 
with all your speed and all your doublings. Drop 
that squirrel if you don’t want your back cut into 
strips. Do you remember, you red rascal, that you 
found me carrying home a duckling I had picked 
up at a farm, and made me drop it? Do you 
remember what you said on that occasion—that 
I was burdened while you were free, so that you 
had the advantage of me, and would claw my 
back to ribbons unless I dropped the duckling? 
Well, robber—pirate! who has the advantage 
now?” 
It was awful, that battle in the sky; the blows, 
the shrieks, the dreadful imprecations they hurled 
at one another; but in the end the kite was obliged 
to drop the squirrel to defend himself with his 
claws, and the poor little beastie fell earthward 
