Westy had picked up a handful of pearly white pebbles that lined the shores and started skimming them across the surface of the transparent water. Artie, meanwhile, was musing thoughtfully, eyes cast overhead, when he observed the two enormous eagles emerging from their rocky fortress and almost instantly disappearing above the clouds.
Upon hearing these miniature aeroplanes “take off,” Westy also followed their swift flight with an observant eye until the billowy clouds hid them from his view, thereupon resuming his pebble skipping.
Artie, however, kept his watchful eye glued upon the spot that the birds had so recently left. Perhaps it was the steadfastness of his vision; perhaps not; but Artie could all but swear to it that some small object was moving on the cliff. He rubbed his eyes, thinking it was the sun deceiving him.
Yes, he was sure of it now; something surely was moving. Without speaking, he simply gripped Westy’s arm, as if fearful that his voice would break the spell. He pointed above them.
Feeling the tensity of Artie’s grip upon him, Westy followed the direction of that hand in utter bewilderment.
The small object seemed to be moving on the very edge of the cliff. Now it looked to be hanging on the precipice, while the boys sat breathless—waiting.
There was a slight movement as the object revealed itself to them.
“It’s an eaglet!” exclaimed Westy in an excited whisper. “Probably just trying out its wings.”
“Gw-an,” answered Artie, as if thoroughly informed as to the eagles and their habits. “Whatcha think, a bird that size is just trying out its wings? It’s trying something you can bet on that, but that isn’t any eaglet, it’s too full grown.”
“Well, I won’t argue with you about it. I know that eaglets are pretty big birds though. I know that much!” Westy said decisively.