A herd of Red-deer are quietly browsing in a remote mountain glen in the center of the deer-forest. The rifles of the owner are stored away in the gun-room, and the marvelously keen scent of the hinds does not warn them of any danger. Indeed, there is no living thing beside the deer them selves, and perhaps a Pipit or two, in sight. Suddenly, a mighty bird hurls itself from the mist straight at a fawn’s back, and, driving its talons into its soft flesh, beats the air with outspread wings, seeking to carry off its victim. The calf, blinded by pain and terror, flies from the herd, carrying with it for a time the shrieking Golden Eagle, but its mother, instead of joining the tumultuous stampede of her companions, stops and looks pitifully back. At last the calf breaks away by sheer weight, leaving blood and floating fur behind it. The baffled eagle soars upwards, but those great claws have done their work, and when the hind looks her last at her dead baby a few hours hence, the bird will triumph after all.