BIRDS OF PREY 157 



Drop him, T say ! ' Up to that moment the eagle had 

 merely bothered the big hawk's flight with a gentle 

 reminder that he wanted the fish, which he could not 

 catch himself. Now there was a change, a flash of the 

 kingly temper. With a roar of wings he whirled round 

 the hawk like a tempest. But the hawk knew when to 

 stop. With a cry of rage he dropped his fish. On the 

 instant the eagle whirled and bent his head sharply. I 

 had seen him fold wings and drop before, and had held 

 my breath at the speed. But dropping was of no use 

 now, for the fish fell faster. Instead, he swooped down- 

 ward, adding to the weight of his fall the push of his 

 strong wings, and glancing down like a bolt to catch 

 the fish ere it struck the water, then rising again in a 

 great curve — up and away, steadily, evenly, as the king 

 should fly, to his own little ones far away on the moun- 

 tain. . . . One day, when I came to the little thicket on 

 the cliff where I used to lie and watcli the nest through 

 my glass, I found that one of the young eaglets was gone. 

 The other stood on the edge of the nest, looking down 

 fearfully into the abyss whither, no doubt, his bolder 

 nest-mate had flown, and calling disconsolately from time 

 to time. His whole attitude showed plaiidy that he was 

 hungry, cross, and lonesome. Presently the motlier 

 eagle came swiftly up from the valley, and there was 

 food in her talons. She came to the edge of the nest, 

 hovered over it a moment, so as to give the hungry eaglet 

 a sight and smell of food, then went slowly down to the 

 valley taking the food with her, telling the little one in 

 her own way to come and he should have it. He 



