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Authors: Victor Canning
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boards at the back of the cage. Smiler, feeling angry at whoever had come into the barn to cause trouble, turned slowly round with a grim face. In the dim, early morning light from the far window he saw Fria sitting on her ledge about sixteen feet from the ground. Her eyes were open, watching him but her head was sunk into her shoulders and her feathers had been shaken out so that she looked like some disreputable old owl.
Smiler stood there, not knowing what to do. He had left the barn door open and he knew that he would have to go back along the length of the barn to close it before he could attempt to catch Fria. Once the barn door was shut he could unhook the loft ladder and set it against the wall, take a sack and go up to Fria. With luck, he could throw it over her before she moved. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he began to move slowly up the barn. Fria watched him unmoving.
With a feeling of relief Smiler reached the door and shut it. Trying to keep his movements easy and unalarming, he found a sack and then unhooked the loft ladder. Very slowly he raised it against the wall. As the top of the ladder came to rest a foot below her Fria suddenly half-flapped her wings and, lowering her head, bated at the ladder top below her. Smiler kept still and waited until she had calmed down. Then very slowly he began to climb the ladder. As far as Fria was concerned he would have gladly let her go to her freedom had she been able to fly properly and look after herself by killing, but he knew that once she was loose outside she would have only the slimmest chance of survival.
Smiler crept up the ladder, making a soft clicking sound at the back of his throat â something which for weeks now he had taken to doing when he fed Fria. It was a sound she understood. It meant food. Smiler prayed that she was hungry enough now to stay where she was in the hope of being fed.
When he was four rungs from the top of the ladder Smiler halted. Taking his weight on his feet, his knees pressed against a ladder-rung to give him a firm balance, he slowly got both hands to the sack and with an unhurried movement spread it wide so that he could swamp the falcon with it.
Slowly he began to raise the sack and Fria watched as it came level with her feet. Then, just as Smiler was poised to make his bid to capture her, from far down the barn Freddie, his onion finished, and greedy for another, suddenly began to chatter loudly and shake at the bars of his cage. The sound disturbed Fria. All her fears during the night chase had been associated with it. As Smiler made a lunge to cover her, she ran sideways along the ledge and launched herself downwards. Smiler, just saving himself from falling from the ladder, turned and saw her wing clumsily down the barn towards the far window. She rose awkwardly to the light coming through. Then, realizing it offered no escape, she made a scrabbling turn, so close to the glass that her left wing flight feathers swept away an accumulation of old spidersâ webs. She lost a couple of feet on the turn and, the panic she had known during the night returning to her, she swept back up the barn. She was faced with an awkward turning manoeuvre to avoid the end wall of the barn. She made a mess of the turn, hit the wall lightly, and tried to cling to it. For a moment or two she hung, wings beating, her talons scrabbling against the surface for a hold, spread-eagled like some awkward bat. Then she fell away sideways, and flew straight for the barn door, half-dazed with fear and shock.
At that moment the door opened inwards. Bob Old stood on the threshold. Fria dived towards him, swerved slowly to one side, and flew out into the open as Smiler gave a far-too-late, warning shout.
Outside a strong west wind, damp with the promise of rain to come, swept across the brook valley. For the first time Fria felt the living, pulsing power of moving air cushioned under her wings and was tossed up out of control like a
Smiler stood there, not knowing what to do. He had left the barn door open and he knew that he would have to go back along the length of the barn to close it before he could attempt to catch Fria. Once the barn door was shut he could unhook the loft ladder and set it against the wall, take a sack and go up to Fria. With luck, he could throw it over her before she moved. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he began to move slowly up the barn. Fria watched him unmoving.
With a feeling of relief Smiler reached the door and shut it. Trying to keep his movements easy and unalarming, he found a sack and then unhooked the loft ladder. Very slowly he raised it against the wall. As the top of the ladder came to rest a foot below her Fria suddenly half-flapped her wings and, lowering her head, bated at the ladder top below her. Smiler kept still and waited until she had calmed down. Then very slowly he began to climb the ladder. As far as Fria was concerned he would have gladly let her go to her freedom had she been able to fly properly and look after herself by killing, but he knew that once she was loose outside she would have only the slimmest chance of survival.
Smiler crept up the ladder, making a soft clicking sound at the back of his throat â something which for weeks now he had taken to doing when he fed Fria. It was a sound she understood. It meant food. Smiler prayed that she was hungry enough now to stay where she was in the hope of being fed.
When he was four rungs from the top of the ladder Smiler halted. Taking his weight on his feet, his knees pressed against a ladder-rung to give him a firm balance, he slowly got both hands to the sack and with an unhurried movement spread it wide so that he could swamp the falcon with it.
Slowly he began to raise the sack and Fria watched as it came level with her feet. Then, just as Smiler was poised to make his bid to capture her, from far down the barn Freddie, his onion finished, and greedy for another, suddenly began to chatter loudly and shake at the bars of his cage. The sound disturbed Fria. All her fears during the night chase had been associated with it. As Smiler made a lunge to cover her, she ran sideways along the ledge and launched herself downwards. Smiler, just saving himself from falling from the ladder, turned and saw her wing clumsily down the barn towards the far window. She rose awkwardly to the light coming through. Then, realizing it offered no escape, she made a scrabbling turn, so close to the glass that her left wing flight feathers swept away an accumulation of old spidersâ webs. She lost a couple of feet on the turn and, the panic she had known during the night returning to her, she swept back up the barn. She was faced with an awkward turning manoeuvre to avoid the end wall of the barn. She made a mess of the turn, hit the wall lightly, and tried to cling to it. For a moment or two she hung, wings beating, her talons scrabbling against the surface for a hold, spread-eagled like some awkward bat. Then she fell away sideways, and flew straight for the barn door, half-dazed with fear and shock.
At that moment the door opened inwards. Bob Old stood on the threshold. Fria dived towards him, swerved slowly to one side, and flew out into the open as Smiler gave a far-too-late, warning shout.
Outside a strong west wind, damp with the promise of rain to come, swept across the brook valley. For the first time Fria felt the living, pulsing power of moving air cushioned under her wings and was tossed up out of control like a
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