5134 Tue ZooLocist—NovEMBER, 1876. 
Then, again, dead fish—literally stinking fish—will attract him 
from afar. I have abundant evidence of this: Mr. Thompson’s 
may suffice. In June, 1835, 1836, 1837 and 1838, quantities of fish 
sickened and died in Lough Derg, in the county Galway: perch 
chiefly; trout and pike in smaller numbers: they floated on the 
surface, and were landed on the shore by the ripple. The odour 
was irresistible; the eagles came from all quarters, and for three 
weeks at a time threw heart and soul into the banquet; nothing 
could drive them away; if scared for a moment by the cries of a 
baby, the yelping of a puppy, or the caw of a hoodie, they would 
return immediately the imaginary danger had passed, and resume 
their labours at the inexhaustible feast. 
Stripped of his lion’s skin, the eagle is still a fine bird, noble in 
appearance, if not in character. Itis a great treat for a southerner, 
a real cockney like myself, to see him suspended almost motionless 
above Ben Cruachan, or wheeling round the summit of Croagh- 
patrick, Sleive Donard, or Lugnaquilla. How intently have I 
watched him in all these places! and nearer still at Urrisbeg, a 
little hill near Roundstone, in Connemara, at the base of which 
Mr. Mackay first discovered the Mediterranean heath. The eagles 
are very frequently seen floating over this bill, and passing and 
repassing between it and the Twelve Pins, near Ballinahinch, the 
seat of the once celebrated Mr. Martin; and their cry is some- 
thing that tells of wild nature: I have heard it called a scream, 
a yelp, a bark: it is neither of these: it is something inimitable, 
indescribable. You may often hear it at the “Zoo”; more rarely 
on the mountain wilds, 
In confinement the eagle is sulky, savage and treacherous; but 
still retains its cowardly disposition, and will submit to be worried 
by ravens, crows and magpies. I know of but a single exception, 
and this is recorded by Mr. Thompson, who, in his ‘Birds of 
Treland,’ says, “‘ My friend, Mr. Langtrey, of Fortwilliam, near Bel- 
fast, had in 1838 a golden eagle that was extremely docile and 
tractable. It was taken in the summer of that year from a nest in 
Inverness-shire, and came into his possession about the end of 
September. This bird at once became attached to its owner, and 
after being about a month in his possession, was given its full 
liberty,—a high privilege to a golden eagle having the use of its 
wings,—but which was not abused, as it came to the lure whenever 
called. It evidently derived much pleasure from the application 
