THE BIG BLOW. 235 
He did not wait to look; at least, he only 
blinked one eye. He fell, quick as ever he 
knew how, sideways and for his life, thanking 
that puff of wind for throwing him into a 
falling position that permitted a zigzag and 
not a straight dive. And it was the zigzag 
that did it—just like a falling bit of paper— 
for it let the great, white, ferocious gerfalcon, 
swooping at the rate of a falling bullet, go by 
his tail, brushing it even, instead of smashing 
his spirit into the next world. 
He had scarcely looked round from a pant- 
ing, trembling gaze at the white apparition of 
the giant of the falcons, vanishing now into 
the horizon, when it struck him that it had 
really begun to blow, and, almost in the next 
instant, that it had really begun to snow. 
Then, being still a little off his balance at his 
remarkable escape, before he knew what had 
happened the whole estuary, mud, and sky, 
and watery channels, and all, had gone out in 
a white whirlpool, and the air was one wild, 
mysterious confusion of howling wind, all in- 
extricably mixed up with the sudden confused 
rallying-calls of surprised birds. 
For a moment he stood with wide legs, 
cawing lustily the rallying-cry for the flock 
to unite. Everywhere the elders were doing 
the same thing, gradually drawing in towards 
