But no matter how baffled she grew, or where she fled in her
headlong flight, the one thing she always remembered, was not to
lead the Cardinal into the punishment that awaited him in Rainbow
Bottom. Panting for breath, quivering with fear, longing for
well-concealed retreats, worn and half blinded by the disasters
of flight through strange country, the tired bird beat her
aimless way; but she would have been torn to pieces before she
would have led her magnificent pursuer into the wrath of his
enemies.

Poor little feathered creature! She had been fleeing some kind
of danger all her life. She could not realize that love and
protection had come in this splendid guise, and she fled on and
on.

Once the Cardinal, aching with passion and love, fell behind that
she might rest, and before he realized that another bird was
close, an impudent big relative of his, straying from the
Limberlost, entered the race and pursued her so hotly that with a
note of utter panic she wheeled and darted back to the Cardinal
for protection. When to the rush of rage that possessed him at
the sight of a rival was added the knowledge that she was seeking
him in her extremity, such a mighty wave of anger swept the
Cardinal that he appeared twice his real size. Like a flaming
brand of vengeance he struck that Limberlost upstart, and sent
him rolling to earth, a mass of battered feathers. With beak and
claw he made his attack, and when he so utterly demolished his
rival that he hopped away trembling, with dishevelled plumage
stained with his own blood, the Cardinal remembered his little