300 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
When it does not change its instinctive habits but 
falls a victim to them, it surely lacks what a 
Yankee would call the ability to put two and two 
together. So much for the brains in Baldy’s 
snow white, viking head. 
Yet he knew a thing or two, at that. He knew, 
for instance, that the osprey, the great fish hawk, 
was a far better catcher of live fish than he was, 
and he knew he was a better fighter than the 
osprey. At any rate, he was ready to chance it. 
Accordingly one day after heavy rains had raised 
the stream levels and made fishing difficult, Baldy 
rose high in the air and drifted over the divide to- 
ward the pond where the fish hawk lived. As he 
crossed the range, he rose higher still till he was a 
speck against the blue, a floating speck that yet 
could see most that went on below him. The 
osprey was nowhere visible at first, and Baldy 
patiently swung in great circles, with the least 
possible expenditure of wing effort, keenly 
watching the air and the forest below him. His 
patience was at last rewarded, for he saw a second 
speck coming from afar, a thousand feet lower 
than he was, headed toward the pond. The eagle 
