The train was going at the rate of forty-five miles an hour. It was hard for the man to keep himself on the engine with one hand on the rail and the other holding the eagle, which tore at him wildly as the engine swung to and fro upon the rails.
The man's clothing was torn to shreds and his hands were bleeding. But he worked his way back to the cab where the engineer assisted him in tying the eagle so he could not get away. But the tying was not easy for two men, for the bird made good use of his great beak and claws.
When spread out on the car floor he measured seven feet from tip to tip of his wings. He was not injured, and is now kept as a splendid prisoner, the king of American birds.
MIGRATORY BIRDS.
IN the New World the birds of the temperate zone are rather perplexing in their migratory habits. Many of those which go north to Canada and Alaska in the summer pass the winter in Mexico, Panama, and even South Columbia; while others, as well as a number of migrants from the United States, go over to the West Indies. One of the most wonderful instances of migration is that of the tiny flame-breasted humming-bird (Selasphorus rufus), which breeds on the west coast of America as far north as Alaska and Bering Island, and winters in Lower California and Mexico. Thus, with unerring instinct, this diminutive bird, scarcely two inches long, flies twice a year the astounding distance of over 3,000 miles. The birds which belong to the second class—those which breed in the Arctic regions—comprise the swans, many of the waders, and a considerable number of ducks and geese. In Europe these birds spend the winter in all the countries from England south to the Mediterranean and Black seas, some even going as far south as the upper reaches of the Nile. In Asia most of the waders, such as snipe, woodcock, sandpipers, and plovers, as well as the ducks and the geese, spend the winter in India and South China. In America the Arctic birds migrate to the Southern United States and Mexico.
The partial migrants, which form the third class, are rather more puzzling in their movements, for among them we find birds whose motives for wandering are very diverse. Some are unwilling slaves—i. e., they get mixed up in the big flights of true migratory birds, and are irresistibly hurried along with them; such are the rooks, starlings, robins, etc., which are so frequently seen in Heligoland in the midst of a flock of swallows, warblers, and other genuine migrants. Another lot of these partial migrants are those which, perhaps, most justly deserve this name; viz., such birds as larks, pipits, titmice, etc., which, although resident with us all the year round, at times greatly diminish in numbers, owing to more than half the individuals changing their abode. For instance, those which breed in Scotland and England wander in the winter over to France, but, unlike the true migrant, always leave some of their number behind.—Walter Rothschild, The Nineteenth Century.