Many years since (in fact, over thirty) signs of the presence of a great depredator were noticed in the more secluded parts of the forest: one day the remains of some luckless rabbits, another a dead or dying lamb. Traps were set, and a strict watch kept for the poacher. Within a very short period was caught a splendid male specimen of the golden eagle. He was promptly housed in a large wooden enclosure near the head keeper’s house, where he has lived and flourished for more than thirty years; his eye as bright, his talons as strong, his spirit as fierce as when he roamed at will the emperor of the air.
A GOLDEN PHEASANT.
Some four or five years since a comrade was also caught and placed in a similar enclosure beside him, so that, day after day, when sociably inclined, they can exchange harsh-noted confidences. They have so far got used to the presence of their captors as to allow of a man entering their enclosures to sweep them out; but the boldest keeper in the Queen’s employ will not yet venture to touch such fearful wild fowl.
Not very far from the eagles’ domain, one may perchance see a flock of Canadian wild turkeys. These birds (almost as large as our toothsome Christmas friends) are more wild in name than in nature, for instead of haunting trees and coverts to be shot in the manner of pheasants at the proper season, they at present insist on being domesticated and partaking of the head keeper’s hospitality when the members of his household feed the numerous song-birds which gather around the house for their daily meals.
But we must leave the keeper’s house with its fascinating surroundings and make for our proper destination, which is the aviary at Frogmore.
Over the verdant turf and under the wide-spreading trees, mainly following the private road traversed every day by Her Majesty when residing at Windsor, past the kennels with their noisy occupants, past the lovely fruit and flower gardens, just outside of Frogmore House, and beside the beautiful dairy, stands the object of our walk.
SILVER-PENCILLED HAMBURGH.
Below the level of the road in a gently-sloping grass-grown dell is built the aviary. Originally the site was occupied but by some dilapidated outbuildings. The present construction is entirely due to the designs of the never-forgotten Prince Consort. He it was who saw the capabilities of the site, and with his usual forethought added art to utility.