"That's all very well; but who's going to climb the tree?"
"You are," said Bob. "You know you're the best climber. The hole isn't more than thirty feet from the ground."
I was ready enough to climb, and pulled off my jacket at once; but I could not get my arms around the tree, and the lowest branch was a dozen feet from the ground.
"I tell you what we'll do," exclaimed Bob. "Let's get a fence rail, and lean it against the tree. I'll boost you, and when you get on the end of the rail, you can reach that branch."
We selected the longest and knottiest rail we could find, and leaned it up against the tree. Then Bob boosted me, while he kept his foot at the end of the rail to prevent it from slipping. By this means I managed to reach the lower branch, and seat myself on it.
"All right so far," said I; "but, Bob, the next branch is beyond my reach, and I don't see how in the world I'm going to get any higher."
"Jack," replied Bob, in a solemn tone, "you've got to do it. There's a hawk's nest up there, and we're bound to have it."
After making a good many trials, I found that by putting one hand in the big crack of the tree I could get a hold that would support me, and by-and-by I found myself standing on the upper branch, with one arm around the trunk, and the hole within my reach.
"Now," cried Bob, "don't waste any time, but go for those eggs, or we won't get home before dark."
He looked very cool and comfortable on the ground, while I was standing in a very ticklish place, and was afraid that the dead limb might give way at any moment. I didn't very much like to put my hand into the hole, for how did I know but that there might be a big snake in it? However, it had to be done, so in went my hand. Something hit it a vicious dig, and you can be sure that I pulled it out in a hurry. To tell the truth, I was badly frightened for a minute, and nearly lost my balance. Then it flashed on me that the eggs we were in search of were young birds.