. Strike him there."

Without waiting a moment, the hawk, knowing that his master liked
instant obedience, flew off swift as the wind, determined this time to
succeed. He found the glade without trouble, and noted the old oak with
its dead gaunt boughs, and then took up his station on an ash, where he
watched eagerly for the shadows to lengthen. Ki Ki, after sitting a
little longer, soared up into the sky to reflect upon further measures.
By destroying the thrush he knew that the war must continue, for Choo
Hoo would never believe but that it had been done by Kapchack's order,
and could not forgive so brutal an affront to an ambassador charged with
a solemn treaty. Choo Hoo must then accept his (Ki Ki's) offer; the
weasel, it was true, had been before him, but he should be able to
destroy the weasel's influence by revealing his treachery to Kapchack,
and how he had told Choo Hoo the secret of the spring which was never
frozen. He felt certain that he should be able to make his own terms,
both with Kapchack and Choo Hoo.

Thus soaring up he saw his messenger, the young hawk, swiftly speeding
to the ambush, and smiled grimly as he noted the eager haste with which
the youthful warrior went to fulfil his orders. Still soaring, with
outstretched wings, he sought the upper sky.

Meantime Bevis had grown tired of waiting for the squirrel, who had gone
off to see about the stores, and flung himself at full length on the
moss under the oak. He hardly stopped there a minute before he got up
again and called and shouted for the squirrel, but no one answered him;
nor did the dragon-fly appear. Bevis, weary of waiting, determined to
try and find his way home by himself, but when he came to look round he
could not discover the passage through the thicket. As he was searching
for it he passed the elm, which was hollow inside, where the weasel lay
curled up on his divan, and the weasel, hearing Bevis go by, was so
puffed up with pride that he actually called to him, having conceived a
design of using Bevis for his own purposes.

"Sir Bevis! Sir Bevis!" he said, coming to the mouth of his hole, "Sir
Bevis, I want to speak to you!"

"You are the weasel," said Bevis, "I know your hateful voice--I hate
you, and if ever I find you outside the copse I will smash you into
twenty pieces. If it was not for the squirrel, whom I love (and I have
promised not to hurt anything in his copse), I would bring my papa's
hatchet, and chop your tree