Its movements became so rapid that it appeared to describe a gray circle about the heron.

These circles, with the heron as the centre, constantly grew smaller, and after a time we could see that the birds were slowly but surely approaching us.
When they were almost over our heads, the hawk rose with incredible swiftness above its prey, and dropped like a bolt of gray lightning upon the heron.

Then followed a struggle that lasted while the birds fell three hundred feet.

When within fifty feet of the ground the hawk suddenly spread its wings and stood motionless in mid air, watching its vanquished foe as it fell to a spot within ten yards of where we stood.
The movement of the falcon in descending to us can only be described as a settling or gradual sinking, with outstretched, motionless wings.

When Max piped, the bird flew to its master's wrist and held down its beak for the hood.
At the close of the battle, the gentlemen of our little audience clapped their hands, and the ladies waved their kerchiefs.