The stark fields of East Anglia in winter...a man hunting a bird, by foot, with no weapon... This is the story of the hunter and his prey, man and bird, bird and bird. The peregrine is a vanishing species, a noble bird often going down to the poisonous sprays of man when no bird could best him. Mr. Baker hunted the hunter for some ten years, with a passion that would not be denied. At the last he is accepted, but before come the days watching tiercel and falcon in flight, claiming their game. Woodpigeon is favored. With the eyes of a fancier, Mr. Baker notices the infinite variety of his subject, is always fresh for the hunt. ""Everything about peregrines varies: color, size, weight, personality and style, everything."" And as he seeks his quarry from October through April, he communicates and almost passes on his obsession to the reader, so intense, so exact is his record. Poised between prose and poetry, this is a unique book, an achievement.