In the next case the bird attacked was the Spur-winged Lapwing, the irreconcilable enemy of the Carancho and its bold and persistent persecutor. The very sight of this Hawk rouses the Lapwings to a frenzy of excitement, and springing aloft they hasten to meet it in mid-air screaming loudly, and continue to harry it until it leaves their ground, after which they return, and, ranged in triplets, perform their triumphal dances, accompanied with loud drumming notes. But if their hated foe alights on the ground, or on some elevation near them, they hover about him, and first one, then another, rushes down with the greatest violence, and gliding near him turns the bend of its wing so that the spur appears almost to graze his head. While one bird is descending, others are rising upwards to renew their charges; and this persecution continues until they drive him away, or become exhausted with their fruitless efforts. The Carancho, however, takes little notice of his tormentors; only when the Plover comes very close, evidently bent on piercing his skull with its sharp weapon, he quickly dodges his head, after which he resumes his indifferent demeanour until the rush of the succeeding bird takes place. While out riding one day a Carancho flew past me attended by about thirty Lapwings, combined to hunt him from their ground, for it was near the breeding-season, when their jealous irascible temper is most excited. All at once, just as a Lapwing swept close by and then passed on before it, the Hawk quickened its flight in the most wonderful manner and was seen in hot pursuit of its tormentor. The angry hectoring cries of the Lapwings instantly changed to piercing screams of terror, which in a very short time brought a crowd numbering between two and three hundred birds to the rescue. Now, I thought, the hunted bird will escape, for it twisted and turned rapidly about, trying to lose itself amongst its fellows, all hovering in a compact cloud about it and screaming their loudest. But the Carancho was not to be shaken off; he was never more than a yard behind his quarry, and I was near enough to distinguish the piteous screams of the chased Lapwing amidst all the tumult, as of a bird already captive. At the end of about a minute it was seized in the Carancho's talons, and, still violently screaming, borne away. The cloud of Lapwings followed for some distance, but presently they all returned to the fatal spot where the contest had taken place; and for an hour afterwards they continued soaring about in separate bodies, screaming all the time with an unusual note in their voices as of fear or grief, and holding excited conclaves on the ground, too all appearance as greatly disturbed in their minds as an equal number of highly emotional human beings would be in the event of a similar disaster overtaking them.