CHAPTER V 



WHIPPED BY EAGLES 



S you head into Maurice River Cove 

 from Delaware Bay by boat, the 

 great eagle's nest of Garren's 

 Neck Swamp soon looms into 

 view. It is a famous nest, and 

 an ancient nest; for it has a 

 place in the chart of every 

 boat that sails up the river, and has had for I don't 

 know how many years. From the river side of the 

 long swamp the nest is in sight the year round, but 

 from the land side, and from the house where we 

 lived, the nest could be seen only after the leaves 

 of the swamp had fallen. Then all winter long we 

 could see it towering over the swamp ; and often, in 

 the distance, we could see the eagles coming and 

 going or soaring in mighty circles high up in the 

 air above it. 



That nest had a strange attraction for me. It was 

 the home of eagles, the monarchs of this wide land 

 of swamp and marsh and river. 



Between me and the great nest lay a gloomy gum 

 swamp, wet and wild, untouched by the axe and un- 

 traveled, except in winter by the coon-hunters. The 



