478 JO URNAL, BOMB A Y NA TUBAL HISTOR Y SOCIETY, Vol. IX. 



to a tree, on the top of which was a huge nest of sticks with a large 

 hird seated thereon. It was the fishing eagle. The tree grew out of 

 a rift in the face of a bare rock, and the way the old Karen managed 

 to get to it — he must have had prehensile toes — clinging hands and feet 

 to the bare precipice was a sight to see. Arrived at the foot of the 

 tree he quickly swarmed up it. I need not say I did not attempt to 

 follow him. The eagle sat very quiet till the man was right under- 

 neath the nest ; then she — for it proved to be a female — raised herself 

 and soared off with a grand sweep of the wings. As she passed over- 

 head I let drive at her with a No. 3 cartridge, and to my delight down 

 she came dead as a doornail, with a great thump, on to a bush some 

 fifteen yards down the hill and in an accessible spot. This was great 

 luck, for, had she gone any distance and fallen, we could never have 

 retrieved her. As it was, after the old Karen had brought me down 

 the one large white egg which the nest contained, it took him fully 

 twenty minutes to clamber down to the tree on which the eagle lay 

 and bring her up. It was a fine specimen, scarcely, if at all, injured 

 by the shot. It is or was a disputed point whether the outer toe of 

 these fishing eagles is reversible like that of the osprey. From 

 examination immediately after death of this and other specimens I 

 can state positively that it is. 



Recommencing our ascent with stoppages now and again to collect 

 sometimes insects, butterfly, bee or wasp, sometimes a bird (twice 

 it was Gypsophila, of which I got three more good specimens); 

 by about 11 o'clock we had got to where I thought, and 

 the Karen said, the hornbill's tree must be. He also said that 

 we were close to where the day before his son had taken up 

 and left under instructions from me sis bottles of water. I was 

 awfully thirsty, so previous to hunting up the hornbill, I determined to 

 have a drink and dispose of some sandwiches I had with me. The 

 Karen led the way to a fairly broad and level dip between two 

 ridges and hunting about found the cache made by his son. What a 

 treat that water was, cold as ice from lying out in the open all 

 night. I took a whole bottle off almost in one breath, then 

 I handed a bottle to the old chap, but he was not very thirsty ; 

 and only took a short drink ; it would have been different if 

 the thing had been whisky. Karens get drunk on all decent opportuni- 

 ties. However he highly approved of half my sandwiches ; these 

 finished, he left me to have a smoke and toddled off to search for the 



