On that particular day just when Gay-Neck had won the leader's laurels, I perceived a pair of Baz flying with a flock of kites. Instantly I put my fingers in my mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Gay-Neck understood my signal. He redistributed his followers, he himself leading the centre, while Jahore and Hira he ordered to cover the two ends of the crescent, in which shape the flock was flying. The entire group held together as though it were one vast bird. They then began to dip down faster and faster. By now the task for which they tarried in the heavens was done. All the other flocks that they had played with in the morning had gone home. Seeing them dip down so fast, a Baz fell in front of them like a stone dropping from a Himalayan cliff. Just when he had descended to the level of my birds, he opened his wings and faced them. This was no new tactic, for it has been used in the past by every Baz in order to strike terror into a flock of pigeons. That it succeeds in ten cases out of eleven is undeniable for when it happens the terror-struck pigeons lose their sense of solidarity and fly pell mell in every direction. No doubt that was what the Baz hoped for now, but our wily Gay-Neck beating his wings flew without a tremor under the enemy about five feet, drawing the whole flock after him. He did it, knowing that the enemy never pounces upon a solidly unified group. But hardly had he gone a hundred yards forward when the second, probably Mrs. Baz, fell in front of the pigeons and opened her wings as her husband had done. But Gay-Neck paid no attention. He led the whole flock straight toward her. It was inconceivable. No pigeon had dared do that before, and she fled from their attack. Hardly had her back been turned when Gay-Neck and the rest of the pigeons dipped and swooped as fast as they could go. By now they were hardly six hundred feet from our roof, and then as fate would have it, Mr. Baz, like a shell full of high explosives, fell again, this time right in the middle of the crescent and opened his wings and beak like forks of fire, crying and shrieking with fury. That produced its effect. Instead of one solid wall of pigeons, the flock was cut in two, of which one half followed Gay-Neck, while the other, smitten with abject fear, flew none knew whither. Gay-Neck did what a true leader does in great crises. He followed that panic-stricken flock until his section overtook it, and in no time, lo, they had merged into a single group once more. Hardly had that taken place when Mrs. Baz in her turn descended like a thunderbolt between him and the other pigeons. She almost fell on his tail, and cut him off from the rest, who now, deprived of their mentor, sought safety in flight, paying no heed to anything. That isolated Gay-Neck completely, and exposed him to attacks from every side. Still undaunted he tried to fly down to his retreating followers. Ere he had descended a dozen feet, down before him swooped Mr. Baz.