“Young ones!” said Williams. “I wish we could get them alive; they would be worth money to us.”
“No use to bother; you’ll have to take it out in wishing,” said the third member of the party. “Come on; let’s go home.”
MR. A. E. WILLIAMS, WHO FOUGHT THE EAGLE IN MID-AIR.
From a Photograph.
“All right. I’ll go home now, but I’m coming back to-morrow after those birds,” said Williams.
The next day found the three young men back at the cliff. They had mapped out a scheme whereby they hoped to get the young birds, and had brought with them seven hundred and fifty feet of stout rope, far more than enough to reach from the top of the cliff down to the bottom of the canyon. To make quite sure of this, however, they first lowered the rope, weighted with a stone, down the face of the rock, and saw that, while there yet remained a big coil at their feet, the weighted end of the rope rested on the floor of the canyon.
Then the rope was hauled back and a tight loop made in one end. This was paid out over the edge of the cliff until it hung directly in front of the eagles’ nest. The other end of the rope was hitched round a convenient tree.
During all this time the men kept close watch for the old eagles, but saw nothing of them.
“Off hunting lambs, I suppose,” said one of the young fellows.
Then Williams stepped forward, laid hold of the rope, and quickly disappeared over the side, sliding slowly downward, using one leg, around which the line was wrapped, as a brake to keep himself from going too fast.