They sank into three inches of feathers.
Swift as Baree had been, Oohoomisew was equally swift to take advantage of his opportunity.

In an instant he had swooped upward.

There was a jerk, a rending of feathers from flesh--and Baree was alone on the field of battle.
Baree had not killed, but he had conquered.

His first great day--or night--had come.

The world was filled with a new promise for him, as vast as the night itself.