186 IDLE DAYS IN PATAGONIA 



supreme effort. Even in repose he is a big eagle- 

 like bird; now his appearance was quite altered, 

 and in the dim, uncertain light he looked gigantic 

 in size a monster of strange form and terrible 

 aspect. Each particular feather stood out on end, 

 the tawny barred tail spread out like a fan, the 

 immense tiger-colored wings wide open and rigid, 

 so that as the bird that had clutched the grass with 

 his great feathered claws, swayed his body slowly 

 from side to side just as a snake about to strike 

 sways his head, or as an angry watchful cat moves 

 its tail first the tip of one, then of the other wing 

 touched the ground. The black horns stood erect, 

 while in the center of the wheel-shaped head the 

 beak snapped incessantly, producing a sound re- 

 sembling the clicking of a sewing-machine. This 

 was a suitable setting for the pair of magnificent 

 furious eyes, on which I gazed with a kind of fas- 

 cination, not unmixed with fear when I remem- 

 bered the agony of pain suffered on former occa- 

 sions from sharp, crooked talons driven into me 

 to the bone. The irides were of a bright orange 

 color, but every time I attempted to approach the 

 bird they kindled into great globes of quivering 

 yellow flame, the black pupils being surrounded 

 by a scintillating crimson light which threw out 

 minute yellow sparks into the air. When I retired 

 from the bird this preternatural fiery aspect would 

 instantly vanish. 



The dragon eyes of that Magellanic owl haunt 

 me still, and when I remember them, the bird's 



