foxes fell into the ditches prepared for them, while wolves caught
their paws in the traps.

But Julian scorned these convenient contrivances; he preferred to
hunt away from the crowd, alone with his steed and his falcon. It
was almost always a large, snow-white, Scythian bird. His leather
hood was ornamented with a plume, and on his blue feet were bells;
and he perched firmly on his master's arm while they galloped
across the plains. Then Julian would suddenly untie his tether and
let him fly, and the bold bird would dart through the air like an
arrow, One might perceive two spots circle around, unite, and then
disappear in the blue heights. Presently the falcon would return
with a mutilated bird, and perch again on his master's gauntlet
with trembling wings.

Julian loved to sound his trumpet and follow his dogs over hills
and streams, into the woods; and when the stag began to moan under
their teeth, he would kill it deftly, and delight in the fury of
the brutes, which would devour the pieces spread out on the warm
hide.

On foggy days, he would hide in the marshes to watch for wild
geese, otters and wild ducks.

At daybreak, three equerries waited for him at the foot of the
steps; and though the old monk leaned out of the dormer-window and
made signs to him to return, Julian would not look around.

He heeded neither the broiling sun, the rain nor the storm; he
drank spring water and ate wild berries, and when he was tired, he