The Eagle of Mission Ridge 239 



replaced by another piece that had been wrenched from 

 the living tree by the eagle. When this second piece had 

 dried still another branch was added. This badge of 

 green seems to be as necessary in the eagle's home as the 

 sacred Lares at the Roman fireside. 



At this time the pair of great eagles were inseparable, 

 and they generally hunted together. For days before the 

 mother cradled her eggs they sat for hours at a time close 

 together on a great limb near the aerie. They had several 

 such favorite perches where they sat and watched the 

 rugged mountain sides for food. They were far up the 

 slope where they could look off over the whole sweep of 

 the ridge. 



The fog was hanging heavy and wet as we climbed 

 slowly up the mountain the second time, and the tall grass 

 and bushes drenched us at every step. We had started 

 under a clear sky with the stars shining, before the first 

 streak of dawn appeared in the east. At daybreak the cool 

 breath of the sea air began to sweep in through the 

 Golden Gate and up the valley, carrying and lifting the 

 fog as it came. And as the last mist clouds were swept 

 along with their fingers trailing in the scraggly bushes, the 

 great eagle with his crown of burnished gold floated out 

 from the head of the caiion. It was his duty to forage. 

 The mate of sombre black stayed on the nest. She had not 

 left since yesterday noon. For over four weeks she had 

 warmed the two eggs, and now she had twin eaglets at her 

 breast. Instead of leaving her young when we were half 

 a mile down the canon, as she did when the nest contained 

 eggs, the mother crouched flat down while we climbed the 

 mountain side above the tree and looked at her through 



