FALCONIDiE. 35 



stiff, the feathers of the head and neck erected, and the 

 wings shivering, so as to keep up the pressure on the 

 instruments of death, is concentrated on the tah^ns, with 

 which alone these birds kill their victims. In general 

 the prey is borne off, but in some cases it is devoured 

 upon the spot. 



The ordinary habits of the Eagle are thus graphically 

 d,escribed by Mr. MacGillivray : — " There he stands, 

 nearly erect, with his tail depressed, his large wings 

 half raised from his sides, his neck stretched out, and his 

 eye glistening as he glances around. Like other robbers 

 of the desert, he has a noble aspect, an imperative mien, 

 a look of jwoud defiance ; but his nobility has a dash of 

 clownishness, and his falconship a vulturine tinge. Still 

 he is a noble biixl, powerful, independent, but ferocious, 

 regardless of the weal or woe of others, and intent solely 

 on the gratification of his own appetites ; without gene- 

 rosity, without honour, bold against the defenceless, but 

 ever ready to sneak from danger. Such is his nobility, 

 about which men have so raved. Suddenly he raises his 

 wings, for he has heard the whistle of the shej^herd in 

 the corry, and bending forward he springs into the air. 

 Hardly , do those vigorous flappings serve at first to 

 prevent his descent ; but now, curving upwards, he 

 glides majestically along. As he passes the corner of 

 that buttressed and battlemented crag, forth rush two 

 ravens from their nest, croaking fiercely. AVhile one 

 flies above him, the other steals beneath, and they essay 

 to strike him, but dare not, for they have an instinctive 

 knowledge of the power of his grasp, and after following 

 him a little way they return to their home, exulting in 

 the thought that they have driven him from their neigh- 

 bourhood. Bent on a far journey, he advances forwards 

 in a direct course, flapping his great wings at regular 

 intervals, then shooting along without appearing to move 

 them. In ten minutes he has advanced three miles, 

 although he is in no haste. Over the moors he sweeps, 

 at the lieight of two or three hundred feet, bending his 

 course to either side, his wings wide spread, his neck and 

 feet retracted, now beating the air, and again sailing 

 smoothly. Suddenly he stops, poises himself for a 

 moment, stoops, l)ut recovers himself before reaching the 

 ground. The object of his regards, a Golden Plover, 



