When Hook could hear nothing but the surf and the wind in the thicket, he let the sickness and shock overcome him. The fine film of the inner lid dropped over his big eyes. His heart beat frantically, so that it made the plumage of his shot-aching breast throb. But this was nothing compared to the lightning of pain in his left shoulder, where the shot had shattered the airy bones so the pinions could not be lifted. Yet, when a sparrow lit in the bush over him, Hook's eyes flew open again, hard and challenging, his good wing was lifted, and his beak strained open. The startled sparrow darted piping out over the river.