ess inhabitants of the
air, exclaimed with sincere regret: "Fie upon us human wretches! Would
the most bloodthirsty hyena destroy such a number of living creatures in
a few hours? Other beasts of prey do not kill even one wretched sparrow
more than they need to appease their hunger. But we and you,
tender-hearted priestess of a gracious goddess--leading us friends of the
Muse--we pursue a different course! What a mound of corpses! And what
will become of it? Perhaps a few geese and ducks will go into the
kitchen; but the rest--the red flamingoes and the brave pelicans who feed
their young with their own blood? They are only fit to throw away, for
the Biamites eat no game that is shot, and your black slaves, too, would
refuse to taste it. So we destroy hundreds of lives for pastime. Base
word! As if we had so many superfluous hours at our disposal ere we
descend into Hades. A philosopher among brutes would be entitled to cry
out, 'Shame upon you, raging monster!'"

"Shame on you, you perpetual grumbler," interrupted Daphne in an offended
tone. "Who would ever have thought it cruel to test the steady hand and
the keen eye upon senseless animals in the joyous chase? But what shall
we call the fault-finder, who spoils his friend's innocent enjoyment of a
happy morning by his sharp reproaches?"

Hermon shrugged his shoulders, and, in a voice which expressed far more
compassion than resentment, answered: "If this pile of dead birds pleases
you, go on with the slaughter. You can sometimes save the arrows and
catch the swarming game with your hands. If your lifeless victims yonder
were human beings, after all, they would have cause to thank you; for
what is existence?"

"To these creatures, everything," said Myrtilus, the Alexandrian's other
cousin, beckoning to Daphne, who had summoned him to her aid by a
beseeching glance, to draw nearer. "Gladly as I would always and
everywhere uphold your cause, I can not do so this time. Only look here!
Your arrow merely broke the wing of yonder sea eagle, and he is just
recovering from the shock. What a magnificent fellow! How wrathfully and
vengefully his eyes sparkle! How fiercely he stretches his brave head
toward us in helpless fury, and--step back!--how vigorously, spite of the
pain of his poor, wounded, drooping pinion, he flaps the other, and
raises his yellow claws to punish his foes! His plumage glistens and
shines exquisitely where it lies smooth, and how savagely he puffs out