The Chaffinches chirp their rallying cry: "Pinck! Pinck!" There is something happening in the sky.

The Sambe, quick! They are coming, the simpletons; they swoop down upon the treacherous floor.
With a rapid movement, the man in ambush pulls his string.

The nets close and the whole flock is caught.
Man has wild beast's blood in his veins.

The fowler hastens to the slaughter.

With his thumb he stifles the beating of the captives' hearts, staves in their skulls.