99 



THE EMPTY EYRIE. 



with an inexplicable instinct, as if both were convinced 

 that we bore no fire-arms, they drew near, sweeping 

 round and round above our heads, and giving utterance 

 to loud unearthly screams, which seemed like a menace. 



We promised ourselves the satisfaction of returning 

 next day, armed with rifle and carbine ; but on the mor- 

 row a terrible storm was raging, and a week passed 

 before we could undertake the expedition. I had taken 

 care to suggest to my companions the advisability of 

 taking with us some rope-ladders, and all the apparatus 

 necessary for escalading the cliff, and while some of the 

 people of the farm climbed the summit of the mountain, 

 the others stationed themselves at the foot of the rock. 

 For ten hours did we wait with admirable patience, and 

 nothing appeared on the horizon ; and when, by means of 

 the ladders, we descended to the nest, we found it empty. 

 The eagles, with their usual sagacity, had profited by our 

 long interval of compulsory inaction, and carried off 

 their progeny to some secure retreat, afar from human 

 investigations. 



During my sojourn at New York, I often amused my- 

 self with a trip on board one of the numerous steam-boats 

 which plough the bay to the extreme point of Staten 

 Island; and there, with no companion but my dog, I 

 would make my way towards the basaltic rocks washed 

 by the roaring waves of the Atlantic. Among the almost 

 innumerable islets which cluster about this spot, from 

 New York to Key West, I had discovered a little island, 

 about a mile in length and breadth, and separated from 

 the mainland by a channel of some three hundred yards, 

 half empty at low water. Here, however, when the tide 



