From Fox's Earth 



brown. One brood was raised each year. Only 

 one pair returned. It is usual for the old birds 

 to claim the old site. What of the young ? An 

 element of variety was lent to the story of this 

 haunt. Some years the birds did not return to 

 this loch, nor build on the castle, but came to a 

 smaller loch at a little distance, and built up a fir- 

 tree on the shore. It may have been that they 

 were disturbed and yet loath to leave, or mere 

 caprice. Or the young birds may have built as 

 near their native water as possible. Never, as far 

 as I am aware, were the two sites occupied in the 

 same season. 



Some ten years ago a strange thing happened. 

 Three came back, of which two were cocks. 

 The hen set to work. The cocks spent the time 

 in fighting, and fought on for days with dire 

 intent but varying fortune. So equally matched 

 were they, that neither would acknowledge defeat, 

 nor yield up the prize. And still the hen worked 

 on. It would have made an attraction of the 

 first order had there but been time to spread it 

 abroad ; a change from the calm sailing on to 

 the lake. In stern quiet the drama went on, with 

 but a few curious natives peeping from among the 

 trees. It was which would hold out the longer. 

 The crisis came at length. 



Reeling down together, one got on the top and 

 drowned the other. It was a fitting end for the 

 lake eagle. The conqueror gathered himself and 



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