THE OSPEEY. 43 



There i^ a good reason for the love which the fishermen bear towards the Osprey, as it is 

 the harbinger of their best seasons, and by its headlong sweeps after the basse and other 

 fish intimates that their nets may be successfully employed. 



Harmless though the Osprey be — except to the fish — it is a most persecuted bird, 

 being not only annoyed by rooks and crows, but robbed by the more powerful white- 

 headed Eagle. Mr. Thompson records an instance where an Osprey, which had been fishing 

 in Loch Paithven, was greatly harassed by an impertinent Eoyston crow, which attacked 

 the nobler bird as soon as it had caught a fish, and, as if knowing that it was incapable 

 of retaliation, actually struck it while on the wing. The Osprey kept quietly on its 

 way, but was so wearied by the repeated attacks of the crow, that when pursued and 

 pursuer had vanished out of sight, the poor Osprey had not been able to commence his 

 repast. 



How this species is robbed by the white-headed Eagle, who strikes the Osprey on the 

 wing, and snatches from the poor bird the results of its morning's labours, is well known 

 through the graphic descriptions of Wilson and Audubon. The passages in which this 

 thievish habit is recounted are so familiarly known, and have been so frequently quoted, 

 that I prefer merely to mention them, and to insert in the present pages another 

 account of the same proceedings, written also by an eye-witness. The author is Mr. 

 Webber, well known for his "Wild Scenes and Wild Hunters," and other works of a similar 

 character. ^ 



" The bald Eagle, who is a sort of omnipresent predator wherever the primeval nature 

 holds her own upon tlie continent, makes his appearance sometimes suddenly on his wide- 

 visiting wings amidst these solitudes, that seem rightly to belong to the fish-hawk alone. 

 His hoarse bark startles the deep silence from afar, and every natural sound is mute. 

 Wheeling grandly amidst the dim blue cliffs, he subsides on slow and royal spread upon 

 some blasted pine beside the lake-river, and with quick short screaming — while he 

 smooths his ruffled plumes — announces to awed nature that its winged monarch has come 

 down to rest. The friendly fish-hawks, in silent consternation, dart hither and yon in 

 vexed uncertain flight, the tiny songsters dive into deep thickets, and the very cricket, 

 underneath dead leaves, pauses for a moment in its cheerful trill, while the shadow of that 

 drear sound passes over all. But now the kingly bird grows quiet, and with many a shift 

 of feet and restless lift of wing — while fierce, far-darting eyes are taking in all the 

 capabilities of his new perch — he sinks into an attitude of deep repose, one yellow-heated 

 eye upturned, watching the evolutions of the startled fish-hawks, whose movement, 

 becoming less and less irregular as they wheel to and fro, gradually subsides into the 

 measured windings of their habitual flight in seeking prey, while the buzz, the hum, the 

 chirp, the chatter, and the carol creep up once again, and nature becomes voiceful in her 

 happy silence. 



Now, to witness, as I have done, from the mountain tops, the Osprey sweep down from 

 the dizzy height, almost level with my feet, and hear the faint whirr of arrowy-falling 

 plumes, and see the cloud-spray dimly flash through the blue steep of distance — ah, that 

 was a sight ! And then the strong bird's scream of exultation faintly heard, and the fai 

 flash of scales glittering as he drags his spoil to sunlight from its dark slumberous home, and 

 on strong vans goes beating up towards the clouds ; ah, that too was a sight ! But then 

 to see deep down, tliat couchant tyrant deep down below, 'levelling his neck for flight' (as 

 the ' glorious weaver ' has it), his war crest raised, his wings half-spread, pausing for the 

 moment on his stoop, and then one clamorous shriek of confident power, and see him 

 vault away, up, up, with a swift cleave, conquering gravitation, and go lifted on the spell 

 of wings ! Wonderful sight — that upward struggle ! The fish-hawk has taken warning 

 from the exulting cry of his old enemy, and with yet louder cries, as if for help, goes up 

 and upward, swifter still, with vain beatings that scatter the fleece-forms of cloud above 

 me, and stii them in whirling gyrations. But no ; the conqueror with overcoming wings 

 is upon him, with fierce buffetings the stirred chaos cannot hide from me, and the fisher 

 drops its prey with a despairing shriek, while it goes gleaming headlong towards its 

 ravished home. Now but an instant's poise while the sunlight can flash off a ray from 



