It did not seem possible that the shrill, harsh sound could be the voice of the king of birds!
“There is the nest,” whispered Nelly, pointing. “See! There is something up there!” A great platform of coarse twigs projected from a crotch near the top of the huge pine tree. Below the trunk was bare. While they peered in turn through the bird-glasses that Norma had brought, they could make out two huge bird-shaped objects silhouetted against the sky, perched on top of this rude nest. They were the children of the bald-headed eagle. The squawking little monsters were begging for food with greedy bills, as undignified as young robins.
“Where do you suppose the old birds are?” asked Norma.
“Gone to get dinner for the family, probably,” answered Nelly. “They may be fishing for themselves down by the sea, or stealing from the fish-hawks, like robbers. I daresay they are miles away. Their great wings are so strong.”
“I wish I could see those babies better,” said Nancy discontentedly. “It’s hard to tell where the birds leave off and the nest begins. I am going to climb up in this tall spruce and see them nearer.” The spruce was about twenty feet from the pine and half as tall.
“Oh, don’t try it, Nancy!” begged Nelly Sackett.
“No, I wouldn’t,” added Norma. “The old birds might come. It’s too hard a climb for a girl.”
That was enough. “Pooh!” said Nancy beginning to mount. “I can climb as well as any boy!” And indeed she scaled the tree like a young monkey.
“Tante told us to keep together,” protested Nelly Sackett. “Please, Nancy!” But Nancy retorted:
“She meant keep together horizontally. This is vertically! That’s different!” She was half way up the tree, pulling herself from crotch to crotch, and grumbling at the spruce gum with which the tree was too generously supplied. “I’m all sticky, but I can see finely now!” she cried. “There are two babies, and their heads are rusty brown. Oh, they are plain!”