After gazing on it for a few minutes, Hugh said, "What a capital place for our hut. Margaret cannot call this height gloomy, for, by mounting the ridge, we can look over the forest and survey the whole country round us. Then the flowers are so gay and pleasant, and we shall see multitudes of birds. Do look, papa, at those two superb eagles that are soaring above our heads, and that doubtless have their eyrie somewhere in this mountain."
But while they were gazing at the birds, O'Brien, who stood at some distance from them, was making ready his bow, and before they were aware of it he had skilfully sent an arrow into one of the eagles, which fell fluttering and screaming among the brushwood.
"Victory! victory!" he cried, looking round for Mr. Mayburn. "Did you see me shoot the eagle, papa?"
"I saw and admired the magnificent creatures, Gerald," answered Mr. Mayburn; "and I deeply grieved to see one fall by your hand. It was no victory, but a wanton cruelty. You have destroyed the noble bird for no useful purpose, and my heart is afflicted to observe the distress of the attached mate. See how he circles round the spot which has left him bereaved and lamenting. I am forcibly reminded of the powerful words of one of our modern classical poets, who, in describing such a tragical bereavement, writes,—
'She whom he mourns
Lies dying, with the arrow in her side,
In some far stony gorge, out of his ken,
A heap of fluttering feathers: never more
Shall the lake glass her flying over it;
Never the black and dripping precipices
Echo her stormy scream as she sails by!'"
"I thought you would have liked to possess the bird, papa," said Gerald, "and I am really sorry for the widowed mate. I feel quite uncomfortable to see the old fellow soaring round me and uttering, I have no doubt, violent abuse. But I may as well recover my game, that you may gratify your curiosity by examining an Australian eagle."
"I saw it fall just behind yon yellow-flowered shrub, which looks so like our own English furze," said Hugh.
Gerald dashed forward into the bush to search for his prize, while Margaret and her father examined with great satisfaction the rich table-land, and Jack pointed out a favorable site for a wattled, bark-roofed hut, which, he asserted, might be easily constructed in a couple of days. But while they were discussing this important affair, they were alarmed by a loud cry from Gerald, "Help, help! the enchanter has got me! Come, Arthur, by yourself, and throw me a rope!"
All were in alarm, and where to throw the rope was the question, for the boy was not to be seen. Arthur and Jack, with a pole and ropes, stepped lightly over the bushes, expecting to find Gerald plunged in a marsh. His cries directed them to a spot, where they saw only his head and one arm clinging to a bush.
"Take care what you are about," said he; "I have slipped into a hole, and perhaps there may be more like it. You had better just slide the pole along till I can catch it, and then, perhaps, I may manage to raise myself. The worst is, I hear that furious eagle, fluttering and hissing just below me, and I am every moment in fear lest she should attack me, and peck my legs to revenge her wrongs."