Then it descended with a wide, circling swoop. In less than ten seconds,
as it seemed to Hervey, its body and great wings, and even its curved,
cruel beak, were plainly visible circling a few yards above the tree. It
seemed like a journey from the heavens to the earth, all in an instant.

"Watch him, watch him," Hervey whispered.

But Tom was not watching him at all. He knew what that savage descent
meant and he was looking for its cause. Stealthily, with no more sound
than that of a gliding canoe, he stole to the trunk of the tree and
looked about with quick, short, scrutinizing glances, away up among its
branches.

Then he placed his finger to his lips, warning Hervey to silence, and
beckoned him into the darker shadow under the great tree.

"Did you see anything beside the bird?" he whispered.

"No," said Hervey. "Why? What is it?"

"Shh," Tom said; "look up--shh----"

It was the most fateful moment of all Hervey Willetts' scout career, and
he did not know it.




CHAPTER VII