in the winter the pines stood motionless and their trunks were a greyish brown. the snow lay deep, swept into great drifts which reared in a dark pile towards the ravine. the sky was a grey stretch; the days short and almost dim.

at night the tree-boles cracked in the frost and their branches broke. the pale moon shone calmly in the stillness, and seemed to make the frost still harder.

the nights were weirdly horrible with the frost and the phosphorescent light of the moon; the birds sat tucked in their nest, pressing close together to keep themselves warm. yet still the frost penetrated their feathers, got into their skin and made their feet, bills, and backs feel cold. the errant light of the moon was also disquieting; it made the whole earth appear to be a great wolfish eye—that was why it shone so terribly!

the birds had no sleep.

they turned painfully in their nest, changing their position; their large green eyes emitted a greenish light. had they possessed the power of thought, they would certainly have longed for the advent of morning.

while it was still an hour before dawn, as the moon was fading and the first faint glimmer of daylight approaching, they began to feel hungry; in their mouths there was a disagreeable, bitterish taste, and from time to time their craws painfully contracted.

when the grey morning had at last come, the male bird flew off for his prey; he flew slowly, spreading his wings wide and rarely flapping them, vigilantly eying the ground beneath him. he usually hunted for hares. it was sometimes a long while before he found one; then he rose high over the ravine and set out on a distant flight from his nest, far away from the ravine into the vast white expanse of snow.

when there were no hares about, he seized young foxes and magpies, although their flesh was unsavoury. the foxes would defend themselves long and stubbornly, biting viciously, and they had to be attacked cautiously and skilfully. it was necessary to strike the bill at once into the animal's neck near its head, and, immediately clutching its back with the talons, to rise into the air—for there the fox ceased all resistance.

with his prey the bird flew back to his nest by the ravine, and here he and his mate at once devoured it. they ate but once in the day, and so satiated themselves that they could move only with difficulty afterwards, and their crops hung low. they even ate up the snow which had become soaked with blood. the female threw the bones that remained down the side of the steep.

the male perched himself on the end of a root, ruffling his feathers in an effort to make himself more comfortable; and the blood coursed warmly through his veins after his meal.

the female was sitting in the nest.

towards evening the male, for some unknown reason, began to croak.

"oo-hoo-hoo-oo!" he cried in guttural tones, as though the sound in his throat came from across the water.

sometimes as he sat solitary on his height, the wolves would observe him, and one of the famished beasts would begin clambering up the precipitous side of the ravine.

the female would then take fright, and flap her wings; but the male would look down calmly with his big, glistening eyes, watching the wolf slowly clamber, slip and fall headlong downwards, bringing a heap of snow with it, tumbling over and over and yelping in fright.

the twilight crept on.