AT THE PAINTED WOODS. 138 
from the ground was fully one hundred feet. An oak 
was cut to fall against the big cottonwood, and Raney 
mounted the leaning tree as a ladder, and with some 
ropes to assist in climbing, reached a position within a 
yards of the nest. 
Up to the time of the climber’s near approach, the 
eagle had remained quietly on her nest. But now she was 
frightened and darted off and commenced soaring toward 
the clouds. Meantime, at Raney’s request, I stood 
watching the eagle while he continued his climbing and 
had reached a still higher point where he stood on a 
limb baffled and resting. 
A mother’s fury at the peril of her young, seemed now 
to posess the bird, for after remaining apparantly motion- 
ess for a moment, she made a few descending circles 
and then darted down with terrible rapidity, evidently 
aiming to dash herself against Raney’s back, and would 
have knocked him headlong from the tree at the probable 
expense of her own life. 
Having my rifle ready at the commencment of her 
descent, and through with but rapid guess work for 
aim,—fired toward her as she darted down through the 
tree tops, when an accidental yet lucky shot for Raney 
was the result. The ball struck the tip of her wing, 
throwing her from the accuracy of her descending line, 
and she went crashing through the lower limbs to the 
earth. 
She was then made captive, and Raney failing to reach 
the nest, as a last resort the big tree was felled to the 
ground with axes, but with no additional trophies save a 
few dead eaglets. The great jarring of the fallen tree 
had killed them. 
