BALD EAGLE 149 



most lost him in the clouds, circling or rather looping 

 along westward, high over river and wood and farm, 

 effectually concealed in the sky. We who live this plod- 

 ding life here below never know how many eagles fly 

 over us. They are concealed in the empyrean. I think 

 I have got the worth of my glass now that it has re- 

 vealed to me the white-headed eagle. 1 Now I see him 

 edgewise like a black ripple in the air, his white head 

 still as ever turned to earth, and now he turns his 

 under side to me, and I behold the full breadth of his 

 broad black wings, somewhat ragged at the edges. 



Aug. 22, 1858. At Baker Farm a large bird rose up 

 near us, which at first I took for a hen-hawk, but it 

 appeared larger. It screamed the same, and finally 

 soared higher and higher till it was almost lost amid 

 the clouds, or could scarcely be distinguished except 

 when it was seen against some white and glowing cu- 

 mulus. I think it was at least half a mile high, or three 

 quarters, and yet I distinctly heard it scream up there 

 each time it came round, and with my glass saw its 

 head steadily bent toward the ground, looking for its 

 prey. Its head, seen in a proper light, was distinctly 

 whitish, and I suspect it may have been a white-headed 

 eagle. 2 It did not once flap its wings up there, as it 

 circled and sailed, though I watched it for nearly a 

 mile. How fit that these soaring birds should be haughty 

 and fierce, not like doves to our race! 



Aug. 29, 1858. Ah! what a voice was that hawk's or 



1 [He had bought a spy-glass a few weeks before.] 

 a [The eagle is so very much larger than any of our hawks that it 

 seems doubtful if this bird could have been one.] 



