Talons locked, beaks raking, they dived earthward. The earth grew and spread under them amazingly, and they were not fifty feet above it when Hook, feeling himself turning toward the underside, tore free and beat up again on heavy, wrenched wings. The other, stroking swiftly, and so close to down that he lost wing plumes to bush, righted himself and flew away lumberingly between the hills. Hook screamed the triumph and made a brief pretense of pursuit, but was glad to return, slow and victorious, to his dead tree.