“When we went back to the place where we could overlook the nest it was evident that there would be some difficulty in getting down onto the ledge where the young eaglets lay quietly sleeping. After various trials it was decided that the only way was for one of our party to be lowered over and let down by the rest. As I was much the lightest one, and as the supply of material that we had with us out of which to improvise a rope was very limited, I was the one selected to go down and put the snares in position. It was decided that we would not disturb the eaglets to-day, but would leave them alone for the present, for fear the old eagles would become alarmed and suspicious, and we would fail in capturing them. The rope, such as it was, held me all right, and landed near the nest. The young birds were so gorged with the flesh of the mountain lamb that they were very stupid, and hardly stirred. I set to work as speedily as possible to arrange the snares, so that the eagles would step into them. As they were all constructed on the running noose principle we knew that they would quickly tighten around the feet if once they were stepped into. My principal difficulty was in finding places where I could tie the other ends of the snares. Eagles are very powerful, and can drag by the foot great weights. So I knew that all our work would be lost if I did not succeed in tying them so that their most desperate struggles to get loose would be in vain. However, I succeeded at length, and then I was hoisted up and we all returned back a mile or so and there camped for the night.
“The next morning, before we reached the spot, we heard enough to convince us of the success of our scheme. Eagles can make a big noise if they try, and two captured eagles and some frightened young ones were noisy enough as we drew near and investigated. Both eagles were firmly caught in these snares of rolled and twisted sinews, which, although not much thicker than common wire, were sufficiently strong to hold them. The Indians wished to shoot them at once, but I had long had an ambition to own a live, full-grown eagle, and therefore I would not let them fire. The rope of yesterday was soon brought into use again, and was lowered down once more to the rocky ledge, armed only with a stout club about four feet long. The noise was simply deafening that was made by these angry birds. The instant I landed they flew at me most viciously. Well was it that the strong sinews held them firmly. As it was I had a rough time of it. I would watch my opportunity and try to strike one of them a heavy blow on the head with my club. To my surprise I received in return a heavy whack from a powerful wing. Their wings were free, and the length of the string enabled them to attack me from all quarters. Seeing my difficulties, I called to my Indians to shoot the female bird, and thus leave me but one to tackle. This they did by shooting her through the head. This left me but the old male bird. I think I could have easily knocked him over the head, but my ambition was to capture him and to take him home as a trophy. I unfastened the noose of the dead eagle, and, tying it to the rope, had the Indians hoist it up to the top. Then I made the attempt to tie together the legs of the young eaglets to have them also drawn up to the summit. What fighters they were! The way they struck at me with their little beaks, and in every way possible resented my interference with their liberty, was wonderful. My hands were sore and bleeding ere I succeeded in sending up the last of the four to my comrades. I had them throw down the snares, and with them I made a kind of a lasso which I tried to throw over the head of the vicious bird. As I threw it he coolly reached up and cleverly caught it in his beak, and snapped it in two as quickly as could a pair of scissors. I tried it again, and once more he was too much for me. Why he had not cut himself loose when in the snare was a mystery to me when I here saw how clever he was in cutting my lasso. It was looking rather discouraging, and began to fear that he would have to be shot.
“My comrades had been amused spectators of my adventures, and now, seeing me uncertain as to what would be my best move, gave me some advice. It was this: ‘Untie the other end of the long noose that holds him to the rock where you fastened it, and tie it to the rope, and we will pull him up and see what we can do with him here.’ This plan struck me as a capital one, and so I immediately proceeded to carry it out. But I had decided on this plan without taking the eagle into my confidence, and so when I began handing the string he flew at me, and with beak and wings assailed me. I had foolishly dropped my heavy club, and so at first was about powerless. Fortunately, I had my hunting knife at my side, and quickly drawing it I fought for my life. The eagle cleverly warded off my lunges at him by striking me
with his wings. Sometimes so heavily did his blows rain on me that it was a wonder I was not stunned. Apparently gaining courage by his success, he seemed to redouble his attacks, and for a time kept me wholly on the defensive. Making a sudden dash at him with the hope of plunging my knife into him, he so cleverly, with one of his wings, knocked aside my knife that in my stumble I found I had awkwardly cut the noose that bound him. As I knew that his talons were now free I presumed he would at once avail himself of his liberty and fly away. But he had now no such idea. His blood was up, and so with a scream of defiance, or triumph, he flew right at my face, with his great ugly talons extended, as though he would grip me up as he had done the lamb. When attacked we naturally will do anything to save the face, and so the instant he dashed at me I threw up my left hand to grasp hold of him somewhere. This fortunately arrested his dash at my face, and in the next instant I had plunged my knife under his outstretched wings into his very vitals, and he was a dead eagle. So terrible, however, was that death grip on my hand and wrist that it was not until I was hauled up with him to the top that the Indians were able to set me free, and then it was only done by cutting the sinews or muscles of each great claw and taking them out of my flesh.”
“Well,” said Sam, “that is a splendid story; but you must have suffered much more than I did, and so as regards my little experience with the owl, well, I think I’ll ould my tongue.”
And so he did.
