The strings crossed, and the upper began to chafe the lower
savagely.
Taro tried to work his kite away, but in vain. The eagle string was strong
and sharp. At the next moment Taro felt a horrid slackness of his string;
no more could he feel the strong, splendid pull of his big kite. There it
was, going, falling headlong to the ground. Kanaya had won. Nothing now
remained to Taro but to take his beating like a Japanese and a gentleman.
With a cheerful smile he made three low bows to his conqueror. Kanaya, with
the utmost gravity, returned the bows before he ran away to secure the kite
he had won.
Now, there had been a very interested and attentive observer of this battle
in Ito, Taro's younger brother. Ito never said a word or moved a muscle
of his little brown face when he saw his brother defeated and the big kite
seized in triumph by Kanaya. But his black eyes gleamed a little more
brightly in their narrow slits as he let out more string and waited for
Kanaya to begin to fly again.
Ito had succeeded to the possession of Taro's old kite. It was less than
two feet square, but it flew well, and Ito had also anointed his string
with the mixture of pounded glass and glue, and was ready for combat Within
ten minutes Kanaya was flying once more, and now he had Taro's kite high in
the air. He had put away his own big brown eagle, and was flying the kite
he had just won. He had scarcely got it well up when a smaller square kite
came darting down upon it from a great height.
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