70 THE MOUNTAINS 



also that he was flying from a bright space 

 of sky toward a space which was already 

 dark with the gathering night. This 

 combination of things seemed to charge 

 the bird's manner with a quality akin to 

 solemnity. He was very quiet, as if bent 

 on serious business, and this quiet was 

 emphasized by the fact that a cohort of 

 noisy, fussy little birds was constantly 

 trying to hinder him. But not even once 

 did the eagle deign to notice these insig- 

 nificant creatures. With a kind of rhyth- 

 mic gravity he moved on above the tur- 

 moil of their petty attack. I say moved, 

 but his body was so firmly poised, away 

 up there among the clouds, and his wing- 

 strokes were so very, very slow, that he 

 appeared to get on without movement. 

 His progress I measured by calculation 

 rather than by simple eyesight. 



It was a great mountain scene, but the 

 flying eagle filled it, dominated it with 

 peculiar dignity — I would name it austere 

 dignity in deliberate action. 



