My First Nest 361 
I refrain from the word impossible, and for the good reason 
that, given sufficient ropes and, above all, skill in their use, and 
always provided that the topographical conditions admit of the 
requisite gear being transported to the spot, there are very 
few nests which can be pronounced impossible to reach. Such, 
at least, are my experiences. Whether successive generations of 
Eagles have learned by bitter experience the fallacy of trusting 
to height and to height alone as a safeguard for their nests, it 
is impossible to say, but every year I live and every fresh nesting 
place I visit confirms me in the belief that in the selection of 
sites for their nests wild birds are above all else concerned to 
escape observation. 
The first time I ever had the joy and gratification to see 
a Golden Eagle’s nest containing eggs came to me with but 
little effort. I was exploring a big limestone hill of the type so 
frequently seen amid the lower spurs of the Sierra Nevada and 
sighted a pair of Golden Eagles high overhead, which shortly 
disappeared round the shoulder of the mountain. Following them 
up, we came upon a big range of cliffs about 4oo ft. in height 
which ran parallel to a steep watercourse. 
Above this range was an extensive rocky terrace with a second 
series of cliffs above, surmounted by yet another terrace and a 
mass of pinnacle crags. After a time we saw one of the Eagles 
enter the lower range of cliffs, but from our position it was 
impossible to be certain of the exact spot. As it was late in 
the day we returned to our house, and the following morning 
resumed our search. Commencing operations on the top of the 
cliff which we reckoned most probably contained the Eagle's nest, 
more by good luck than by good management I hit off the spot 
from above, for, on firing a shot, a Golden Eagle dashed out of 
the cliff almost exactly below the place where I stood. The 
cliff was perfectly sound limestone, much weathered, and quite 
