322 
WHITE-HEADED EAGLE. 
which was, at least, four feet in diameter, proved fruitless. Aided by an assistant, we 
succeeded in accomplishing the long, difficult task and the huge tree which had defied the 
gales of hundreds of years, fell with a resounding crash to the earth. We hastened to the 
nest which had evidently been occupied for years, for it contained at least a cart-load of 
sticks, many of which were decayed. In falling, the material had become somewhat scat¬ 
tered and upon pulling it over, we discovered two downy young, about the size of a com¬ 
mon fowl, both of which were dead, having been killed by the shock. It may be assured 
that I was not very much pleased with the result of this method of investigating the con¬ 
tents of Eagles’ nests and I have never since taken the trouble to cut down a tree in which 
these birds had placed their domiciles. 
When the nestis approached, the parent Eagles do not exhibit any great degree of so¬ 
licitude, merely flying about at long rifle range and uttering a harsh cackling note. They 
have a singular habit of dropping, at such times, when shot at and uninjured, just as if 
they had been hit, and I have seen a female turn over several times, almost exactly like a 
Tumbler Pigeon. The male is particularly shy; in fact, he will often leave the vicinity 
when he perceives an intruder. 
On the eighth of March, I obtained young partly fledged at South Lake and on the 
nineteenth of the same month, saw the young sitting outside the nest; although they were 
fully fledged and as large as their parents, they were unable to fly but made frequent ef¬ 
forts to rise in air, balancing themselves on one foot, while they flapped their wings vio¬ 
lently, but they could not evidently muster sufficient courage to launch out. 
1 have intimated that the White-headed Eagles occupy the same nest for years', and 
that they also guard it throughout the year, may be seen by the following instance. On 
the twentieth of April, I discovered a nest built in a solitary pine which stood on the north 
end of Merritt’s Island and, as the Eagles were flying about it, uttering the cackling note 
of alarm, I concluded that they had eggs, so I laboriously ascended to the nest which was 
at least fifty feet in air with but few intervening branches. When under the nest, however, 
I found that I could not get into it, as it was, at least, six feet in diameter and projected 
out over my head like a shelf. So I descended, but as the Eagles still continued to fly about 
and exhibit every mark of anxiety, I once more went up to their domicile and, after great 
exertions, succeeded in tearing away a portion of the nest so that I could look into it, 
when I found, much to my disgust, that it contained nothing but fish bones, the young 
having evidently left some time previous; in short, when I once more reached the ground, 
I saw them, in company with their parents, circling around the place and since that time, 
I have observed Eagles behaving in a similar manner late in the season. 
As will be seen by the foregoing account, the nests are not very easy to get into, even 
when one succeeds in reaching them. I once ascended to a nest placed in a dead tree on 
one of those small keys which lie on the extreme south coast of Florida, and after making 
considerable effort, succeeded, by the aid of a limb, in getting into, or rather, on to the 
top. I found a perfectly flat platform, about six feet in diameter, solid in structure, where 
I could stand upright or even move about. It was empty, and after spending some time 
in examining the adjacent country, of which my elevated situation afforded an excellent 
