210 AQUILA CHRYSAETUS. 



dom does fear chill thy free spirit, for the windy tempest and 

 the thick sleet cannot injure thee, and the lightnings may flash 

 aromid thee and the thunders shake the everlasting hills, with- 

 out rousing thee from thy dreamy repose. Thou hast a good 

 conscience, and what shouldst thou dread, although a thousand 

 victims have been sacrificed to thy lust of rapine, and even now 

 the blood of that helpless fawn which thy keen eye discovered 

 among the long heath crusts thy hooked bill. Thou hast a 

 commission to plunder ; thou art a robber by right ; mercy and 

 peace are not of the elements of thy nature ; like the ancient 

 Gael of those wild glens thou goest about armed for strife ; even 

 thy love is fierce, and thy nurslings are nurtured with blood. 

 Proud bird of the desert, how joyous must thou be, wdien on 

 strong wings thou glidest over the mountain-tops, and soarest 

 away into the blue sky, until the clouds are beneath thee, and 

 thou floatest in the ether, nearer to heaven than living thing 

 has ever been. Oh that I too had the wings of an Eagle, that 

 I might visit the place of thy rest, and perch on a pinnacle be- 

 side thy mate as she broods over her young ones on the rocks 

 of Glen Dee. But thou art now almost ready, and before thou 

 startest, let me take thy portrait. 



See how the sunshine brightens the yellow tint of his head 

 and neck, until it shines almost like gold ! There he stands 

 nearly erect, with his tail depressed, his large wings half raised 

 by his side, 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 proud defiance ; 

 but his nobility has a dash of clownishness, and his falconship 

 a vulturine tinge. Still he is a noble bird, powerful, indepen- 

 dent, proud, and ferocious, regardless of the weal or woe of 

 others, and intent solely on the gratification of his own appe- 

 tites ; without generosity, without honour, bold against the de- 

 fenceless, 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 shepherd 

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

 Oh that this pencil of mine were a musket charged with buck- 

 shot ! Hardly do those vigorous flaps serve at first to prevent 



