When all was ready, the bird was stripped of his other fastenings; and then all retired to a distance to give him space for the free use of his wings.
Fancying himself no longer under restraint, the bearcoot sprang up from the rock on which he had been placed; and, spreading his broad wings, rose almost vertically into the air.
For the first twenty yards he mounted with a vigorous velocity; and the hopes of the spectators found utterance in joyful ejaculations.
Alas! these hopes were short-lived, ending almost on the instant of their conception. The rope, carried to its full length, became suddenly taut—jerking the eagle several feet back towards the earth. At the same time the log was lifted only a few inches from the ground. The bird fluttered a moment, taken aback by this unexpected interruption; and, after recovering its equilibrium, again essayed a second flight towards the sky.
Once more the rope tightened—as before raising the log but very little from the ground—while the eagle, as if this time expecting the pluck, suffered less derangement of its flight than on the former occasion. For all that, it was borne back, until its anchor “touched bottom.” Then after making another upward effort, with the like result, it appeared to become convinced of its inability to rise vertically, and directed its flight in a horizontal line along the cliffs. The log was jerked over the ground, bounding from point to point, occasionally swinging in the air, but only for a few seconds at a time.
At length the conviction forced itself upon the minds of the spectators—as it seemed also to have done upon that of the performer—that to reach the top of the cliff—with a cord upon its leg, equal in weight to that log—was more than a bearcoot could accomplish.
In short, the plan had proved a failure; and, no longer hoping for success, our adventurers turned their disappointed looks upon each other—leaving the eagle free to drag his wooden anchor whithersoever he might wish.