3572 Notices of New Books : 



where the half-plucked chicken lay, Khairu, cast off with a whoop, 

 dashed unhesitatingly at the enemy. 



"Another tumult. Every Beloch that could handle a bow provided 

 himself with one, and all of us hurried to the open space whence we 

 could descry the evolutions of the birds. At the sight of the hawk, 

 the crow precipitately dropped his prize, and shrieking as usual, skur- 

 ried through the trees pursued by his stubborn foe. Now all is ex- 

 citement. The attendants rush about whooping and hallooing, in 

 order if possible to frighten the quarry still more. 



" Vainly the crow attempts to make a distant shelter, the laghar 

 hangs close upon him, gaining every moment. Corvus must shift his 

 tactics. Now he attempts to take the air, wheeling in huge circles 

 gradually contracted. But Khairu has already reached his level, ano- 

 ther instant a swoop will end the scene. The crow falls, cunningly, as 

 might be expected, presenting his bill and claws he saves himself from 

 the stoop, and having won, as he supposes, distance, cleverly turns 

 over, and wriggles through the air towards his asylum. Already it is 

 near, — a large clump of thorny mimosas, from whose rugged boughs 

 resound the voices of a startled colony. 



Khairu, with a soldier's glance, perceives the critical moment, plies 

 her pinions with redoubled force, grapples with her quarry from be- 

 hind, weighs him down rapidly through the cleaving air, and nearing 

 the earth, spreads her wings into parachute form, lighting with force 

 scarcely sufficient to break an egg. 



" The battle is not finished. Corvus, in spite of his fall, his terror, 

 a rent in the region of the back, and several desperate pecks, still 

 fights gallantly. This is the time for the falconer to assist his bird. 

 From the neighbouring mimosas, roused by the cries of their wounded 

 comrade, pours forth a " rabble rout " of crows, with noise and tur- 

 moil, wheeling over the hawk's head, and occasionally pouncing upon 

 her, unguibus et rostris, with all the ferocity of hungry peregrines. 

 We tremble for Khairu. Knowing her danger, we hurry on as fast as 

 our legs can carry us, shouting, shooting pellets, and anathemizing 

 the crows. We arrive, but hardly in time. As we plunge through the 

 last bushes which separate us from the hawk, twenty cawers rise Hur- 

 riedly from the ground ; the bazdar hurries to his laghar. The quarry 

 lies stone dead, but poor Khairu, when taken up and inspected by 

 thirty pair of eyes, is found to have lost her sight, and to be otherwise 

 so grievously mauled, pecked, and clawed, that the most sanguine 

 prepare themselves for her present decease. Alas, poor Khairu ! " — 





