Mispoon hung on, rolling as she rolled, beating with his giant wings, fastening his talons in that clutch that death could not shake loose.

On the ground his mate was dying.

Her life's blood was pouring out of the hole in her side, but with the dimming vision of death she made a last effort to help Mispoon.

And Mispoon, a hero to the last, kept his grip until he was dead.
Into the edge of the bush Maheegun dragged herself.

There she freed herself of the big owl.