He took it out; a very handsome bird, with a hackle in which gold, purple and the richest browns shone and were blended.
Sir Harry had picked up his bird and was heeling it with the long steel spurs; a very delicate process, to judge by the time occupied and the pucker on his good-tempered brow.
"Ready ?" he asked at length.
Jim, who had been heeling the Squire's bird, nodded and the pair were set down.

They ruffled and flew at each other without an instant's hesitation.

The visitor, which five minutes before had been staring at the carpet so foolishly, was prompt enough now.

For a moment they paused, beak to beak, eye to eye, furious, with necks outstretched and hackles stiff with the rage of battle.

They began to rise and fall like two feathers tossing in the air, very quietly.