But 206 died hard, and it was not until the fifth bullet had thudded into his furious brain that he lay still.
They cut him open, and retrieved, among other things, the cook’s wooden leg, a gold watch, three sovereigns, and the ring numbered T.S. 206, which the captain sent back to the Ichthiological Observatory with an account of its recovery.
A female peregrine falcon surveyed with justifiable pride the two eggs she had just laid. They were a dull reddish brown with beautiful mottling, and as they lay in the untidy, scrappy eyrie they looked very pleasing.
The falcon eyed them approvingly, and then sat down on them and fluffed out her feathers to keep them warm. Her mate the tiercel returned to the nest in the evening; he brought no food as he had not expected the eggs. Having scolded and flapped about a little, the mother gave the eggs into the charge of her husband, and sailed off in search of supper.
She flew out over the Newhaven marshes and saw a heron flapping slowly home; she dropped out of the sky on to the startled bird, who gave a squawk of dismay and sank to the ground.
The peregrine observed the sharp, upturned beak of the heron, and soared up again. She was too hungry to wait and battle, so she mounted higher in wide circles until the marshes appeared as a flat mud-patch below her, and the downs which surrounded them like green hillocks stretching away to the sea in the south and the weald in the north.
On the banks of the Ouse, which meandered through the marshes, her wonderful eyes detected a movement. Folding her wings she dropped like a stone until she was near enough to see a water-rat, who, unaware of his fate, was eating a small beetle.
A shadow glided over him, and he looked up in alarm, but too late, for in a split second he was rushing up into the air in the powerful claws of the bird.
A speck hung high in the air above her claimed the peregrine’s attention; she glanced at it with a swift, sideways motion of her head, and recognized another peregrine, a stranger who lived near Pevensey. Higher still than this bird, far out of human sight, soared the stranger’s mate.
They both saw her and slanted down out of the sky in huge circles as they manoeuvred for position in the fading light. The first peregrine was anxious, and increased her great speed, flying homewards towards the Newhaven cliffs where her eyrie and eggs were guarded by her mate. Suddenly the Pevensey tiercel stooped, dashing downwards with the rushing sound of a rocket.
She rolled sideways as he approached her, and down he went, spinning a good thousand feet before he could check.
The Newhaven bird had scarcely recovered her balance when the tiercel’s mate attacked her from the side, striking heavily above the right wing. A cloud of feathers were scattered, but the falcon’s terrible claws failed to grip, and she broke away, wheeling high for another attack.
The Newhaven falcon saw the tiercel coming up again, and with a harsh scream she dropped the water-rat, and circled rapidly higher, receiving the female’s second attack with a quick double roll which confused her enemy for the moment, and it gave the harassed bird time to mount higher.
As the other peregrines sheered off, the tiercel dropped down after the water-rat, which he secured before it reached the ground. His mate flew off towards Pevensey, while he circled to gain height. The Newhaven bird did not want to lose the water-rat, and bore down on the tiercel, who fled away towards his mate. They both flew away towards Pevensey, the female circling and covering her mate’s retreat.
The Newhaven falcon was feeling too hungry and tired to chase them, so she flew high over the downs to find a rabbit.
She had no luck with the rabbits, however, as they had become extremely wary through years of attacks from owls, peregrines, kestrels, and sparrow-hawks, who were all very fond of rabbit meat.
Sailing over Caburn the peregrine became aware of a pigeon about a quarter of a mile away flying rapidly towards London.
Her hopes rose, and mounting rapidly to a great altitude she exerted every effort, and gradually overtook the pigeon.
The pigeon flew quickly, cleaving the air with the inherent swiftness of generations of pigeons, but the falcon flew quicker, and stooped on the pigeon with enormous speed, coming down squarely on its shoulders, driving her great claws into the soft body.
On returning to the eyrie, the falcon found her mate still on the eggs; she shuffled him off (he was a good three inches shorter) and inspected her eggs closely: they were all right, and she settled down on them for the night. On the next day the tiercel flew from the eyrie early in the morning and returned about noon with a small rabbit, which he gave to his wife. He brought in more food during the day. About four o’clock the tiercel relieved his mate at the eggs; and she stretched her cramped wings, flapping and screaming at the edge of the eyrie.
Far below her on the beach, a man heard her, and looking up he saw the ledge on which the eyrie was built. Having preened herself in the sun the falcon glided off the ledge and flew away to the marshes.
The plovers all fled before she came near, for they had become cautious from long experience.
She flew low over the long grass, and started a jacksnipe, which shot away, corkscrewing and turning in its own inimitable manner. The falcon caught the snipe when it tried to double, and ate it on the ground.
She flew back slowly towards the eyrie. When she came near enough she heard the tiercel shrieking and calling harshly.
Hastening her pace the peregrine approached the nest from the sea. She saw a man taking her eggs.
He was an oölogist, a great enemy of birds, who had seen her stretching her wings earlier in the day.
He had lowered himself over the cliff from a rope tied to a tree, and had fastened a safety line round his waist.
The tiercel had not been able to save the eggs, which the collector had just put for safety in his mouth. The mother falcon stooped at the man’s head with great force, knocking his thick cloth cap off, and wheeling again for another attack.
The man turned pale, he had not thought it serious enough a matter to hire a helper, and he was alone. The tiercel flapped furiously about his head, and the oölogist was too busy keeping the terrible talons from his eyes to climb to safety.
The tiercel drew off for a moment, and the oölogist quickly replaced one egg, thinking to distract the parent’s attention, and he started climbing.
He had not hauled himself a dozen feet, however, before the mother, who had mounted to a great height, stooped. The man’s hands were holding on to the rope, so she caught him full in the face.
With a shriek he lost his hold and fell, the thin safety rope snapped, and he fell to the rocks below.
The out-going tide washed him out to sea.
In the warm seas where squids, octopi, and