WHIPPED BY EAGLES 37 



swamp began just across the road that ran in front 

 of the house ; and often at night I would hear the 

 scream of a wild cat in the dark hollows; and once 

 I heard the pat, pat of its feet as it went leaping 

 along the road. 



Then beyond the swamp and the nest stretched a 

 vast wild marsh-land, where the reeds grew, and the 

 tides came in, and the mud-hens lived. And beyond 

 that flowed the river, and beyond the river lay an- 

 other marsh, and beyond the marsh another swamp. 

 And over all this vast wild world towered the nest of 

 the eagles, like some ancient castle ; and over it all — 

 swamp and marsh and river — ruled the eagles, as 

 bold and free as the mighty barons of old. 



Is it any wonder that I often found myself gazing 

 away at that nest on the horizon and longing for 

 wings? — for wings with which to soar above the 

 swamp and the bay and the marsh and the river, to 

 circle about and about that lofty eyrie, as wild as 

 the eagles and as free ? Is it any wonder that I de- 

 termined some day to stand up in that nest, wings 

 or no wings, while the eagles should scream about 

 me, and away below me should stretch river and 

 marsh and swamp ? 



To stand up in that nest, to yell and wave my 

 arms with the eagles wheeling and screaming over 

 me, became the very peak of my boy ambitions. 



And I did it. I actually had the eggs of those 

 eagles in my hands. I got into the nest ; but I am 



