92 
BIRD LIFE IN WASHINGTON 
ited us upon the beach near an Indian 
home. Then he turned his boat and dis¬ 
appeared over the waters of Puget Sound. 
The undergrowth was so dense that it 
was almost impossible to leave the beach 
except where our Indian neighbors had 
made a small clearing. They came down 
to the beach to listen to our camp songs 
and to make sure our lire would not get 
beyond our control and start a forest lire. 
They told us we were far from Eagle 
Cliffs and that we could not possibly make 
our way through the dense underbrush to 
them. We would have to go by boat. 
The next morning a pretty Indian girl 
rowed us around the Island. As soon as 
we came in sight of the cliffs, we saw a 
line big bird watching us from the limb of 
a tall tree. He looked like a Golden 
Eagle but he wasn't. The young Bald 
Eagle wears a dress much like his more 
kingly cousin. But the Golden Eagle's 
legs are feathered to his toes. This is not 
true of the Bald. 
Soon two line big birds in full plumage 
appeared. They were white headed and 
white tailed. No mistaking them for 
Golden Eagles. 
We drew our boat upon the beach and 
climbed a cliff while the eagles quietly 
watched. High up upon limbs of some 
giant firs were two nests. They were 
made of sticks. Each one was about the 
