“In high expectation, I seated myself at about a hundred yards from the foot of the rock. Never did time pass more slowly. I could not help betraying the most impatient curiosity, for my hopes whispered it was a Sea-Eagle’s nest. Two long hours had elapsed before the old bird made his appearance, which was announced to us by the loud hissings of the two young ones, which crawled to the extremity of the hole to receive a fine fish. I had a perfect view of this noble bird as he held himself to the edging rock, hanging like the Barn, Bank, or Social Swallow; his tail spread, and his wings partly so. I trembled lest a word should escape from my companions.—The slightest murmur had been treason from them. They entered into my feelings, and, although little interested, gazed with me. In a few minutes the other parent joined its mate, and, from the difference in size (the female of rapacious birds being much larger), we knew this to be the mother bird. She also had brought a fish; but, more cautious than her mate, she glanced her quick and piercing eye around, and instantly perceived that her abode had been discovered. She dropped her prey, with a loud shriek communicated the alarm to the male, and, hovering with him over our heads, kept up a growling cry to intimidate us from our suspected design. This watchful solicitude I have ever found peculiar to the female,—must I be understood to speak only of birds?
“The young having concealed themselves, we went and picked up the fish which the mother had let fall. It was a white Perch, weighing about five pounds and a half. The upper part of the head was broken in, and the back torn by the talons of the Eagle. We had plainly seen her bearing it in the manner of the Fish-Hawk.
“This day’s sport being at an end, as we journeyed homewards we agreed to return the next morning, with the view of obtaining both the old and young birds; but rainy and tempestuous weather setting in, it became necessary to defer the expedition till the third day following, when, with guns and men all in readiness, we reached the rock. Some posted themselves at the foot, others upon it, but in vain. We passed the entire day without either seeing or hearing an Eagle, the sagacious birds, no doubt, having anticipated an invasion, and removed their young to new quarters.
“I come at last to the day which I had so often and so ardently desired. Two years had gone by since the discovery of the nest, in fruitless excursions; but my wishes were no longer to remain ungratified. In returning from the little village of Henderson, I saw an Eagle rise from a small enclosure not a hundred yards before me, where a few days before some Hogs had been slaughtered, and alight upon a low tree branching over the road. I prepared my double-barrelled piece which I constantly carry, and went slowly and cautiously towards him. Quite fearlessly he waited my approach, looking upon me with undaunted eye. I fired and he fell; before I reached him he was dead. With what delight did I survey the magnificent bird! Had the finest Salmon ever pleased him as he did me? Never. I ran and presented him to my friend with a pride which they alone can feel who, like me, have devoted themselves from their earliest childhood to such pursuits, and who have derived from them their first pleasures. To others I must seem to prattle out of fashion.”
“Mr. Audubon seems to have been a very keen sportsman,” remarked Mary.
“He is a most enthusiastic naturalist,” said Uncle Thomas, “and if we have time this evening before you go I will tell you a little story of his perseverance which I am sure will interest you, but there is still another Eagle which I must first introduce to you, the White-Headed or Bald Eagle. It also is an American species, and is thus described by our friend Wilson.”—
“Shall I read it, Uncle Thomas?” asked Harry.
“Or I?” enquired John.
“Thank you, Harry,” replied Uncle Thomas; “I think we have already taxed you sufficiently for one night; John will be so kind:”—
“This distinguished bird,” says this equally distinguished naturalist, “as he is the most beautiful of his tribe in this part of the world, is entitled to particular notice. The celebrated cataract of Niagara is a noted place of resort for the Bald Eagle, as well on account of the fish procured there, as for the numerous carcasses of Squirrels, Deer, Bears, and various other animals that, in their attempts to cross the river above the Falls, have been dragged into the current and precipitated down that tremendous gulf, where, among the rocks that bound the Rapids below, they furnish a rich repast for the Vulture, the Raven, and the Bald Eagle, the subject of the present account. Formed by nature for braving the severest cold; feeding equally on the produce of the sea, and of the land; possessing powers of flight capable of outstripping even the tempests themselves; unawed by any thing but man; and, from the ethereal heights to which it soars, looking abroad at one glance, on an immeasurable expanse of forests, fields, lakes, and ocean, deep below him, he appears indifferent to the little localities of change of seasons; as in a few minutes he can pass from summer to winter, from the lower to the higher regions of the atmosphere, the abode of eternal cold, and from thence descend, at will, to the torrid or the arctic regions of the earth. He is, therefore, found at all seasons in the countries he inhabits; but prefers such places as have been mentioned above, from the great partiality he has for fish.