Vol mf V ] GAUKRODGER, The Way of an Eagle . 
7 
arrives at the age when weight and inactivity have taken the 
place of youth and fearlessness, it is no easy matter to balance 
oneself on the top of a twenty-feet ladder, one leg across the limb 
and the other twisted through the rungs, and with one hand on 
the focussing screw and the other fighting the wind to keep the 
focussing cloth steady. My assistant held a page from an old 
stock and station agent's almanac to assist me in getting a sharp 
focus on the large figures. I secured this alright—and on the 
screen appeared ist APRIL, 1923. (What right-thinking bird- 
photographer, however, would bother about a little detail of this 
kind? Do we not become immune to all such suggestions?) 
I now set the lens diaphragm at Fi 1, adjusted the shutter speed 
to 1/50 of a second, inserted the plate-holder carrying Imperial 
eclipse plates (650 H. & D.), and then left for home. 
At 8 o'clock the following morning my assistant motored me 
to the scene of action again. It was a relief to find that the old 
bird had not been to the nest with food; accordingly, I again 
mounted the ladder, drew the slide, set the shutter, and satisfied 
myself that the thread leading from the shutter release to 
‘'Stump's” interior was not tangled up in any way. Taking the 
ladder some distance away, I returned, and went into hiding with 
confidence and a well-filled waterbag. My assistant drove the 
car home, leaving no fixtures calculated to arouse the suspicions 
of even a Wedge-tailed Eagle. 
For the first hour or so I was feeling fairly comfortable and 
happy. I could see the eaglet above moving around the nest, 
and could hear him tearing at the tough skin of a stale frill¬ 
necked lizard. By eleven o'clock I began to feel uneasy in my 
cramped position. I felt then that my wish—that the bird would 
not come to the nest until the sun was well up in the heavens — 
was being truly realised. At one o'clock my assistant brought me 
a little lunch, and then went off again. The day was hot, and I 
ate heartily* and drank well into the contents of my water-bag.- 
That lunch near a young Eagle was, considering the surroundings, 
enjoyable enough, but at two o'clock I began to get restless. I 
developed an unscientific but very human feeling of peevishness! 
1 even waxed decidedly antagonistic to the flies, ants and mos¬ 
quitos that were tormenting me, and there was some latent % 
savagery in the way I despatched a red-backed spider, two centi¬ 
pedes, and a small blue-tongued lizard! Possibly these creatures 
had no ulterior motives, but they were useful as subjects upon 
which to vent my injured feelings as the hours went by. 
At last came 5 o'clock, upon which my assistant called with his 
Ford. And so I went home, not as Pepys has it, “in good con¬ 
tent," but with an almost unhappy feeling common to the van¬ 
quished. It is useless, however, embarking on wild-bird photo¬ 
graphy if the effect of little set-backs (such as a fruitless day in 
a hollow log) cannot be worn off with a good night's sleep. So 
the next morning found me abroad again, at 8 o'clock, after that 
Eagle's photograph. 
