ft. 



shore without doing 1 so, for the river was wide and the 

 line not long enough to permit it. As I stood braced 

 against the current on that treacherous bottom, with 

 its glass-smoothed- bowlders, considering the situation, 

 my bird once again rose into the air. It struggled 

 a few moments, and then seeming to realize that I 

 was responsible for its plight, with a terrorizing 

 screech it darted straight at me. I realized it meant 

 to attack, and tried to dodge the blow, and in doing 

 so lost my footing and fell, but not in time to escape 

 the claw which reached for me. It caught my flannel 

 shirt at the shoulder, curing the flesh badly. I had 

 lost my hold on the rod, arid the current had carried 

 us into deep water. I tried to sink, but old eagle 

 would not have it so, and savagely pecked at my 

 head, scoring blood at every blow. I succeeded in 

 getting hold of its neck once, but those awful claws 

 of its "off" foot embedded themselves into my hand 

 so that I gladly let go. There was no telling how this 

 strange battle would have ended had not Machel, 

 hearing the unusual racket, come to the rescue. He 

 seized a stick and waded out on the lower riffle, toward 

 which we were rapidly drifting, and as he approached 

 the bird saw him and flew off as suddenly as he had 

 attacked, much to my relief. He settled on a 

 limb overhanging the water and surveyed the 

 scene. He then began pecking at his foot, 

 and then soared away. The line had wrapped a 

 branch and he had torn the hook free. The rod, reel 

 and line were recovered intact, except the leader, 

 which still hangs from the branch. My^reel was 

 firmly strapped to me, so that I lost neither it nor 

 the contents. Machel the "Good Samaritan" bathed 

 my wounds, which soon healed, but he was not over- 



112 



