THE ISLAND SANCTUARY, 



lone rock in the midst of the waters of a highland loch, has for many years 

 been the resort of the peaceful birds, one of whom we now see winging his 

 way homeward, bearing in its talons a morning's meal to its hungry young. 

 Season after season has that unapproachable cliff afforded the necessary protection 

 to the inoffensive Hawks, whilst hatching and rearing their young ; and the broad 

 space upon its summit is nearly covered by the nest, which has grown year by year 

 until it has reached enormous proportions. No human foot has ever scaled that 

 height, no energetic egg-collector ever taken the speckled treasures from that island 

 home, and from, their secure refuge the young have watched their parents depart 

 upon their fishing excursions, and return again,-with labored flight, bearing the fruits 

 of their industry with them. , 



It is a beautiful sight to witness the fish-hawk pursuing his finny prey. 

 Behold with what grace he leaves his rocky sanctuary, launching himself into the 

 air upon his broad wings, and circling with easy, powerful sweeps, around and 

 above. his impregnable home. Satisfied that all is well, he wends his way towards 

 the shores of the loch, where the water is less deep, and where his keen eye can 

 perceive the objects of his search swimming at but a little depth below the surface. 

 Slowly he proceeds, scanning closely all that passes beneath ; suddenly he checks 

 his course and with quickly repeated flappings of his wings, holds himself stationary 

 for a moment, then falls like a dart, and disappears in a cloud of spray. Soon 



