him were unavailing against those great talons which 

 held it. The bird was about to eat his supper at 

 once, but was suddenly arrested, as, with a terrible 

 scream, another eagle shot out of the sky and attempted 

 to take it from him. The two birds immediately 



/began to "mix things," and an awful battle was on. 

 The breeze caried away myriads of downy feathers 

 as they were torn from their roots; the air was rent 

 with piercing screams ; first one bird was down and 

 then the other. I could feel the constant tugging at 

 the line, but could not get it clear. The fight lasted 

 several minutes, and then one of the huge birds 

 suddenly left the rock, carrying the trout with it. 

 The other rose to follow, but during the struggle the 

 hook had fastened to one of its feet. Here was a 

 novelty indeed. I would have willingly released him, 

 but of course was entirely helpless in the matter. 

 You may know that fishing lines were scarce in that 

 particular locality, and I realized the danger of losing 

 my best one. The strain on the line, as well as on my 

 nerves, was something only to be realized by a like 

 experience. The eagle's angry cries tore the air 

 wide open. The rod bent and recovered as from 

 time to time the pressure varied. The bird struggled 

 in the air for some time and then settled back on the 

 rock from which he had not at any time gotten ^away. 

 I want to say here that a fish don't put up any kind 

 of a fight at all as compared with a big eagle. This 

 ^ was fishing predicament by pecking at the hook, which 

 I earnestly hoped he might do. If the reader will 

 pause at this point and consider the feelings of the 

 man at the rod end of the line he will realize that the 

 eagle was not the only fellow who was in a pickle. 

 I did not want to break the line, nor could I reach 



ill 



