Gay-Neck

by Dhan Gopal Mukerji

And so in a little over a month we returned. We brought with us Gay-Neck and his mother, for I wished the little fellow to fly the second time so that he would know with absolute certainty every village, Lamasery, lake and river as well as the beasts, and the other birds—cranes, parrots, Himalayan herons, wild geese, divers, sparrow hawks and swifts. On this trip we went about a hundred yards beyond the eagle's nest. The finger of autumn had already touched the rhododendrons. Their flaming petals were falling out, their long stems, many feet high, rustled in the winds. Leaves of many trees had begun to turn, and the air was full of melancholy. At about eleven, we uncaged our pigeons, who flew away into the sapphire sky that hung like a sail from the white peaks.

They had flown for about half an hour when a hawk appeared above them. It drew nearer the two pigeons, and then drove at them. But the prey proved too wary; they escaped scatheless. Just as Gay-Neck and his mother were coming down swiftly to where the trees were, the hawk's mate appeared and attacked. She flew at them as her husband had done without gaining her objective. Seeing that their prey was escaping, the male hawk cried shrilly to his mate; at that she stopped in the air just marking time. The pigeons, feeling safe, quickened their wing motion and flew southward while the two hawks followed, converging upon them from the east and the west. Wing-beat upon wing-beat, they gained on the pigeons. Their wings shaped like a butcher's hatchet tipped off at the end, cut through the air like a storm ... one, two, three—they fell like spears! Gay-Neck's mother stopped, and just floated in the air. That upset the calculation of the hawks. What to do now? Which one to fall upon? Such questioning takes time, and Gay-Neck seized the chance to change his course. Swiftly he rose higher and higher. In a few moments his example was followed by his mother, but she had lost time, and the hawks rose almost vaulting up to her. Then apparently a sudden panic seized her; she was afraid that the hawks were after her son and in order to protect him—which was utterly unnecessary—she flew toward the two pursuers. In another minute both of those birds of prey had pounced upon her. The air was filled with a shower of feathers! The sight frightened Gay-Neck, who fell upon the nearest cliff for protection and safety. It was his mother's error that deprived her of her own life and probably imperiled that of her son.

We three human beings began a search for the cliff where Gay-Neck had fallen. It was no easy task, for the Himalayas are very treacherous. Pythons if not tigers were to be feared. Yet my friend Radja insisted, and Ghond the hunter agreed with him, saying that it would augment our knowledge.

We descended from the cliff that we were on and entered a narrow gorge where the raw bones lying on the ground convinced us that some beast of prey had dined on its victim the previous night. But we were not frightened, for our leader was Ghond, the most well-equipped hunter of Bengal. Very soon we began a laborious climb through clefts and crevices full of purple orchids on green moss. The odour of fir and balsam filled our nostrils. Sometimes we saw a rhododendron still in bloom. The air was cold and the climb unending. After two in the afternoon, having lunched on a handful of chola (dried beans softened in water), we reached the cliff where Gay-Neck was hiding. To our surprise we discovered that it was the eagle's nest with two eaglets—the babies of our previous visit—now full-fledged. They were sitting on the front ledge of their eyrie, while to our utter amazement we saw Gay-Neck at the farthest corner of a neighbouring ledge, cowering and weak. At our approach the eaglets came forward to attack us with their beaks. Radja, whose hand was nearest, received an awful stroke which ripped open the skin of his thumb whence blood flowed freely. The eagles were between us and Gay-Neck and there was nothing to be done but to climb over a higher cliff to reach him. Hardly had we gone six yards away from the nest when Ghond signed to us to hide as we had done the first time we had come. We did so with celerity, under a pine, and soon with a soft roar in the air, one of the parent eagles drew near. In a few seconds there fell a high pitched sound as the eagle sailed into its nest. A shiver of exquisite pleasure ran up and down my spine as her tail feather grazed our tree and I heard that whistling mute itself.

Let me re-emphasize the fact that people who have an idea that the eagle builds its nest on an isolated inaccessible cliff are mistaken. A powerful bird or beast does not have to be so careful in choosing its home. It can afford to be negligent. The nest of such a gigantic bird must have as its first requirement space so that it can open and shut its wings in the outer court of its home, and a place so spacious cannot be too inaccessible. Next, the eagle has no knack at building nests. It chooses a ledge that juts out of a cliff-cavern where nature has already performed two-thirds of the task. The last third is done by the birds themselves and it merely consists in getting branches, leaves, and blades of grass together as a rough bed where the eggs may be laid and hatched.

All those details we gathered as we crawled out of our hiding place and examined—for the second time—the eyrie from a distance. There was no doubt that they were our old friends—the two babies—grown big, and their mother. She, even now though they were grown up, drew in her talons as a matter of habit lest they hurt her children. But it was momentary; after she had made sure that they were racing to meet her, she opened them and stood firmly on the outer ledge. The eaglets, though they should not be called so now that they were full-fledged, rushed forward and took shelter under her wide-spread wings. But the little beasts did not stay there long, they did not want to be loved, they were very hungry, they wanted something to eat and alas, she had brought nothing. At that they turned from her and sat facing the wind, waiting.

At Ghond's signal we all three rose and began to climb. In the course of another hour we had crawled in lizard-like silence over the roof of the eagle's nest. Just as I passed over it, an abominable odour of bones and drying flesh greeted my nostrils. That proved that the eagle—king of birds though he is—is not as clean and tidy as a pigeon. I, for one, prefer a pigeon's nest to an eagle's eyrie.

Soon we reached Gay-Neck and tried to put him in his cage. He was glad to see us, but fought shy of the cage. Since it was getting late I gave him some lentils to eat. Just about the middle of his meal, seeing him deeply absorbed in eating, I made an effort to grab him with my hand. That frightened the poor bird and he flew away. The noise of his flight brought the mother eagle out of the inner recess of her nest. She looked out, her beak quivering and her wings almost opening for flight. At once all the jungle noises below were stilled and she sailed away. We felt that all was over for Gay-Neck. Suddenly a shadow fell upon him. I thought it was the eagle pouncing; however it only rested on him a moment and then receded, but he had had the fright of his life and he flew away, driven by sheer terror, in a zig-zag course, far beyond our sight.

I was convinced that we had lost Gay-Neck. But Ghond insisted that we would find the bird in a day or two, so we decided to wait and spend our time there.

Night came on apace and we sought shelter under some pines. The next morning we were told by Ghond that the day had come for the young eagles to fly. He concluded: "Eagles never give their children lessons in flight. They know when their eaglets are ready for it. Then the parents leave for ever."