40 
THE CONDOR 
| Vol. VII 
by its smoky crown. How long the nutcrackers and jays remain in families, and 
whether the jays look after their young later than the nutcrackers, whose vertical 
migration to the pifion belt begins in August, perhaps only mountaineers can tell 
us. Butin cases of early accident to a normal spring breed, a second brood could 
doubtless be reared before cold weather even at such high altitudes. 
Some such explanation might apply in the case of a pair of golden eagles 
( Aqirila chrysaetos ) which we encountered in coming down out of the Taos Moun- 
tains through Hondo Canyon in August. The canyon with its timbered sides, its 
cliffs and bold rock towers afforded good eagle country, and when our outfit halted 
at 8000 feet by a grove of young spruces that promised to supply a needed tent 
pole, my attention was attracted by two of the noble birds flying back and forth 
across the slope of the canyon wall. While holding the horses I noted idly, but 
witli the satisfaction one feels in intelligent work, that the eagles seemed to be 
hunting over different beats, and also that they saved themselves work by flying 
back and forth almost without a wing stroke, merely tilting their outspread oblong 
wings at different angles to act as sails. Occasionally one would light in a small 
pine top for a few moments, and in descending to the tree one at least showed a 
white base to its tail. 
Sounds of dropping came from the spruces and I thought impatiently of the 
Helminthophilas we were anxious to hunt in the willows down the canyon, when 
suddenly the eagles claimed all my attention. One of them was proceeding calmly 
across a slope when its companion started and flew straight out to it. On the in- 
stant the one approached shot away, rising high in air, to come sweeping down 
again magnificently on set wings. The whole performance had such an appear- 
ance of coquettish courtship play that it suggested the booming of the nighthawk. 
What did it mean — in August? As I was pondering in bewilderment, Mr. Bailey, 
tent pole in hand, emerged from the spruces, and when I pointed excitedly to the 
eagles, got out his field glasses to watch developments. In a moment, to our sur- 
prise, the two birds lit side by side, on the face of the cliff, as it seemed at our 
distance. Focusing the glass sharply on them however, Mr. Bailey exclaimed, 
“They’re sitting on the edge of a nest — a big stick nest on a ledge!” This was 
indeed a surprise. Could they be birds of the year — one had the white tail — re- 
visiting their old home? Or were they, perchance, a pair hunting food for a 
belated brood, though the normal breeding time is from December to March. 
What was it ? As we speculated, first one bird and then the other pitched off the 
cliff and resumed sailing. Presently, however, one of them flew to a tall tree, lit 
on a dead branch, gave a jerk and a backward flap and flew off, the broken branch 
bristling beneath its feet. It made its way quickly back to the nest which when 
closely examined with the glass proved to have a top layer of freshly broken sticks. 
We looked at each other in amazement, finally exclaiming, “Eagles — building 
— the tenth of August!” 
Washington , D. C. 
