At this moment the furious father struck him, knocking him clean off into the air.
"The air was now full of black wings and angry cries, as the crows from neighboring nests flocked to the help of their fellow citizen.

But the little red robber was brave and kept his head.

Spreading his legs wide and flat, he made a sort of parachute of himself, and, instead of falling like a stone, he glided down to another branch.

Those beating wings and terrible jabbing beaks were all about him, but they got in each other's way.

And he was a wonder at dodging, I can tell you, now that he was among the bigger branches, and, though he got several nasty thrusts, which covered his fine coat with blood, he gained his hole, halfway down the tree, and whisked into it safely.
"Into this narrow retreat, of course, none of the crows dared to follow him, knowing that they would there be at the mercy of his teeth.