ALONG THE HILLSBOROUGH. 79 
oftener, — and one day a water turkey went 
suddenly over my head and dropped into 
the river on the farther side of the island. 
I was glad to see this interesting creature 
for once in salt water; for the Hillsbor- 
ough, like the Halifax and the Indian rivers, 
is a river in name only, —a river by brevet, 
—hbeing, in fact, a salt-water lagoon or 
sound between the mainland and the eastern 
peninsula. 
Fish-hawks were always in sight, and 
bald eagles were seldom absent altogether. 
Sometimes an eagle stood perched on a dead 
tree on an island. Oftener I heard a 
scream, and looked up to see one sailing far 
overhead, or chasing an osprey. On one 
such occasion, when the hawk seemed to be 
making a losing fight, a third bird suddenly 
intervened, and the eagle, as I thought, was 
driven away. ‘Good for the brotherhood 
of fish-hawks!” I exclaimed. But at that 
moment I put my glass on the new-comer ; 
and behold, he was not a hawk, but another 
eagle. Meanwhile the hawk had disap- 
peared with his fish, and I was left to pon- 
der the mystery. 
As for the wood, the edge of the ham- 
