him of his supper!

The last look Fritz ever had of that piece of ibex venison, was seeing
it in the beak of the bird, high up in air, growing smaller by degrees
and beautifully less--until it disappeared altogether in the dim
distance.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

FRITZ OFFENDED.

This odd little episode, between the boar-hound and the churk falcons,
had interrupted the conversation of the two brothers on the subject
which Caspar had introduced. Nor was it resumed immediately, on the
termination of the affair: for the look with which Fritz regarded the
departure of the bird, that had so adroitly bilked him out of his bit of
venison, was so supremely ludicrous, as to elicit long loud peals of
laughter from the spectators.

Fritz's "countenance" betrayed the presence of rare emotions. Profound
surprise and chagrin--strongly blended with a feeling of concentrated
rage--were visible not only in his eyes, but his attitude, and, for some
time, he stood with head erect and muzzle high in air, his glances
speaking unutterable vows of vengeance, as they followed the flight of
the falcons.

Never in all his life--not even when the trunk of the elephant was
trumpeting at his tail--had Fritz so sensibly felt the want of wings.
Never had he so regretted the deficiency in his structure that left him
without those useful appendages; and had he been gifted with the "wand
of a fairy," the use to which he would at that moment have applied it
would have been to furnish himself with a pair, not of "beautiful
wings"--for that was a secondary consideration--but of strong and long
ones, such as would have enabled him to overhaul those churk falcons,
and punish them for their unheard-of audacity.

For more than a minute Fritz preserved the attitude to which we have
alluded: the demeanour of a dog that had been regularly duped and "sold"
by a brace of beings, for whose strength and capacity he had exhibited
supreme contempt; and it was this mingling of surprise and rage that
imparted to him that serio-comic appearance that had set them all
a-laughing. Nor was his countenance less ludicrous under the expression
with which, on turning round, he regarded his trio of human companions.
He saw that they were making merry at his expense; and his look of
half-reproach half-appeal had no other effect than to redouble their
mirth. Glancing from one to the other, he appeared to seek sympathy
from each in turn--from Karl, Caspar, and Ossaroo.