132 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



ing a bald eagle that had its nest on an 

 island in a lonely stretch of the Potomac 

 River near Washington (pages 125 and 

 127). 



Although the eagles did not show as much 

 anger at our intrusion as the duck hawks, 

 they were far more difficult to photograph 

 because they returned to the nest only once 

 or twice a day to feed their young. Their 

 nest was 80 feet up in a huge sycamore 

 tree that took almost an hour to climb. 

 To save time we sometimes used a rope 

 instead of spurs. 



ALMOST AN ACCIDENT 



We had a near calamity when I (Frank) 

 started to climb to the nest to take down 

 our cameras. I had just arrived on the 

 island after a strenuous paddle through 

 a half mile of rapids when I started up 

 the rope. 



Ten feet from the limb I began to slow 

 down perceptibly; five feet more and I was 

 almost at a standstill. I was straining every 

 muscle, realizing that I had to make the 

 limb or fall. There was no going down, 

 for it would require more effort to do so 

 than it would take to make the remaining 

 five feet. 



My arms were numb and my stomach 

 muscles quivering as I finally got opposite 

 the limb, but still I was by no means safe, 

 for the limb was three feet to one side. 

 I had to throw out my feet and swing 

 myself up over it. My first attempt failed 

 as my feet slipped off the smooth syca- 

 more branch. My arms, now feeling like 

 dead sticks and not a part of my body, 

 slowly straightened out. 



For a second I thought how easy it would 

 be to let go, but I did not give this thought 

 time to grow. With a desperate attempt 

 I again swung my legs up against the limb, 

 gave a shove away, and came swinging 

 back onto the branch and safety. 



To add to our hardships, the eagle as- 

 sumed a stubborn attitude and would not 

 return to the nest until nightfall, when it 

 was not practicable to take photographs. 

 Several pictures were finally obtained by 

 waiting all day, sleeping beneath the tall 

 trees at night and waiting until five o'clock 

 the next evening. 



HAWKS ATTACK THE CAMERA 



We had an interesting time photograph- 

 ing a sharp-shinned hawk. This nervous 

 hundred-yard dasher was the first bird we 



had photographed that attacked the camera. 

 Both male and female hit it so hard that 

 we feared they would tear the bellows. Ten 

 feet after taking off from a limb they were 

 going at a terrific speed and they did not 

 slow down a particle when they hit the 

 camera. 



The fast, shifty sharp-shin is a wonderful 

 hunter. One morning we found six small 

 birds, all of them fresh and completely de- 

 plumed, lying on the edge of the nest. We 

 have watched the sharp-shin dodge through 

 the thickest brush after its quarry and know 

 it to be one of the most ruthless and ex- 

 pert of all bird killers, yet we found a nest 

 of young whippoorwills directly under the 

 hawks' nest, and, not a hundred feet far- 

 ther on, a towhee's nest containing four 

 eggs. 



These birds that would have been easy 

 prey for the sharp-shin were living in per- 

 fect harmony with the hawk. 



This was not our first experience with 

 peaceful birds nesting near predators. Al- 

 most invariably we found phoebe nests on 

 duck hawk cliffs, and wrens and several 

 starlings were nesting in the lower part of 

 an eagle nest we photographed. 



We had our hardest luck with the spar- 

 row hawk and Cooper's hawk. Out of the 

 four sparrow hawk nests we located, the 

 eggs of two were destroyed by animals 

 before we had even begun photographing; 

 a third was taken by an egg collector, and 

 the fourth was impossible to photograph. 

 We especially wanted a picture of an old 

 Cooper's hawk at her nest, but we were 

 unable to locate a nest until too late in 

 the season. 



TO CANADA IN QUEST OF THE PIGEON 

 HAWK 



When the hawks and owls in the vicinity 

 of Washington had finished their annual 

 nesting, we decided to take a trip to Canada 

 and photograph the pigeon hawk, which 

 is a northern bird and a late nester. With 

 two falconer and photographer friends, 

 camping and camera equipment, and $3S 

 apiece, we started out in a '28 model car 

 purchased with funds obtained from the 

 sale of our first pictures for publication. 



Out of seven nests that we located, some 

 with the help of Frank and Bill Powell, 

 two well-known naturalist guides whom we 

 met at Saganaga Lake, Ontario, we found 

 only one nest suitable for taking still pic- 

 tures and only one for movies. The ma- 



