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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
60
Out
from
the
crest
of
the
Catskills
there
launched
a
Falcon.
Swiftest
of
the
race
of
rapine,
proud
of
his
strength,
proud
of
his
wings,
he
rejoiced
in
a
worthy
prey.
Many
and
many
a
Pigeon
had
been
borne
to
his
nest,
and
riding
the
wind
he
came,
swooping,
reserving
his
strength,
awaiting
the
proper
time.
Oh,
how
well
he
knew
the
very
moment!
Down,
down
like
a
flashing
javelin;
no
wild
Duck,
no
Hawk
could
elude
him,
for
this
was
a
Falcon.
Turn
back
now,
O
Homer,
and
save
yourself;
go
round
the
dangerous
hills.
Did
he
turn?
Not
a
whit!
for
this
was
Arnaux.
Home!
home!
home!
was
his
only
thought.
To
meet
the
danger,
he
merely
added
to
his
speed;
and
the
Peregrine
stooped;
stooped
at
what?--a
flashing
of
color,
a
twinkling
of
whiteness--and
went
back
empty.
While
Arnaux
cleft
the
air
of
the
valley
as
a
stone
from
a
sling,
to
be
lost--a
white-winged
bird--a
spot
with
flashing
halo--and,
quickly,
a
speck
in
the
offing.
On
down
the
dear
valley
of
Hudson,
the
well-known
highway;
for
two
years
he
had
not
seen
it!
Now
he
dropped
low
as
the
noon
breeze
came
north
and
ruffled
the
river
below
him.
Home!
home!
home!
and
the
towers
of
a
city
are
coming
in
view!
Home!
home!
past
the
great
spider-bridge
of
Poughkeepsie,
skimming,
skirting
the
river-banks.
Low
now
by
the
bank
as
the
wind
arose.
Low,
alas!
too
low!
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