s, or
wearied them out by a prolonged defence.

But to fight on "all fours" did not chance to be his fashion. It was
contrary to the traditions of his family and race--all of whose members,
from time immemorial, had been accustomed, when battling with an enemy,
to stand erect upon their hind-legs.

Following this fashion, he had raised himself to his full perpendicular,
and was about aiming a "butt" against the breast of one of the bearcoots
that was tantalising him in front, when the other, that had made a short
retrocession in order to gain impetus, came swooping back with the
velocity of an arrow, and seizing the ibex under the chin, by a quick,
strong jerk of its talons, it struck the head of the animal so far
backward that it lost its balance, and went toppling over the cliff. In
another instant the ibex was in mid-air--falling--falling--through that
same fearful space that had just been traversed by his own victim.

The spectators looked to see him strike the ground without receiving
further molestation from his winged assailants. Not so, however, did it
result. Just as the ibex had got about half-way down the face of the
precipice, the second eagle was seen shooting after him with the
velocity of a flash of lightning; and before he could reach the ground,
the bearcoot was seen striking him once more, and causing him to diverge
from his vertical descent. The body came to the ground at length--but
at a considerable distance from where the other was lying--the eagle
descending with it to the earth, and even remaining over it with wings
and limbs extended, as if still clutching it in his talons!

Why the bearcoot was thus retaining the ibex in his clutch was not quite
so clear: for the animal was evidently dead; and apparently had been so
long before reaching the earth. There was something strange about this
proceeding on the part of the bird--as there had also been in its mode
of descent through the last forty or fifty yards of space. From the
manner in which it had extended its wings after striking its prey, and
from the way in which it still kept exercising them, the spectators
began to think that its singular descent, and its remaining over the
carcass in that cowering attitude, were neither of them voluntary acts
on its part.

The truth was soon made clear--proving the contrary to be the case: for
as the bearcoot continued to flap its wings, or rather, flutter them in
a violent irregular motion, it b