en child's play for her to elude
him; but as it was, it required all her caution and cunning. It was to
her advantage that she could travel on thinner branches than he, and
make wider leaps. Also, she was an unerring judge of distance, and she
had an instinct for knowing the strength of twigs, branches, and rotten
limbs.

It was an interminable chase. Round and round and back and forth
for long stretches through the forest they dashed. There was great
excitement among the other Folk. They set up a wild chattering, that was
loudest when Red-Eye was at a distance, and that hushed when the chase
led him near. They were impotent onlookers. The females screeched and
gibbered, and the males beat their chests in helpless rage. Big Face
was especially angry, and though he hushed his racket when Red-Eye drew
near, he did not hush it to the extent the others did.

As for me, I played no brave part. I know I was anything but a hero.
Besides, of what use would it have been for me to encounter Red-Eye? He
was the mighty monster, the abysmal brute, and there was no hope for me
in a conflict of strength. He would have killed me, and the situation
would have remained unchanged. He would have caught the Swift One before
she could have gained the cave. As it was, I could only look on in
helpless fury, and dodge out of the way and cease my raging when he came
too near.

The hours passed. It was late afternoon. And still the chase went on.
Red-Eye was bent upon exhausting the Swift One. He deliberately ran her
down. After a long time she began to tire and could no longer maintain
her headlong flight. Then it was that she began going far out on the
thinnest branches, where he could not follow. Thus she might have got
a breathing spell, but Red-Eye was fiendish. Unable to follow her, he
dislodged her by shaking her off. With all his strength and weight, he
would shake the branch back and forth until he snapped her off as one
would snap a fly from a whip-lash. The first time, she saved herself by
falling into branches lower down. Another time, though they did not
save her from the ground, they broke her fall. Still another time, so
fiercely did he snap her from the branch, she was flung clear across a
gap into another tree. It was remarkable, the way she gripped and saved
herself. Only when driven to it did she seek the temporary safety of the
thin branches. But she was so tired that she could not otherwise avoid
him, and time after time s