BIRDS OF PREY 157 
Drop him, 1 say!’ Up to that moment the eagle had 
merely bothered the big hawk’s flight with a gentle 
reminder that he wanted the fish, which he could not 
catch himself. Now there was a change, a flash of the 
kingly temper. With a roar of wings he whirled round 
the hawk like a tempest. But the hawk knew when to 
stop. With a cry of rage he dropped his fish. On the 
instant the eagle whirled and bent his head sharply. I 
had seen him fold wings and drop before, and had held 
my breath at the speed. But dropping was of no use 
now, for the fish fell faster. Instead, he swooped down- 
ward, adding to the weight of his fall the push of his 
strong wings, and glancing down like a bolt to catch 
the fish ere it struck the water, then rising again in a 
great curve — up and away, steadily, evenly, as the king 
should fly, to his own little ones far away on the moun- 
tain. . . . One day, when I came to the little thicket on 
the cliff where I used to lie and watch the nest through 
my glass, I found that one of the young eaglets was gone. 
The other stood on the edge of the nest, looking down 
fearfully into the abyss whither, no doubt, his bolder 
nest-mate had flown, and calling disconsolately from time 
to time. His whole attitude showed plainly that he was 
hungry, cross, and lonesome. Presently the mother 
eagle came swiftly up from the valley, and there was 
food in her talons. She came to the edge of the nest, 
hovered over it a moment, so as to give the hungry eaglet 
‘a sight and smell of food, then went slowly down to the 
valley taking the food with her, telling the little one im 
her own way to come and he should have it. He 
