UNCLE THOMAS TELLS ABOUT THE OSPREY, OR SEA-EAGLE, AND ABOUT THE
WHITE-HEADED, OR BALD EAGLE OF AMERICA.
“The Osprey, or Sea-Eagle, which I mentioned to you when I last had the
pleasure of seeing you,” said Uncle Thomas to his young hearers on a
subsequent evening, when they had once more gathered round his chair,
“though not quite so large as the Golden Eagle, is yet a very powerful
Bird, being in general upwards of two feet in length, its wings
extending about five feet and a half. It seeks its prey by water only,
and builds its nest in the crevices of rocks, on the banks of lakes and
rivers.”
“How does it catch the fish?” asked Frank.
“It has, like most of the other Birds of the Eagle tribe,” said Uncle
Thomas, “been endowed with remarkably keen power of vision, and as it
sails over the waters it can, even at a considerable height in the air,
see fish swimming near the surface, and, dropping down upon them with
the swiftness of an arrow, it plunges into the water, and seldom emerges
without securing them in its powerful talons.
“Though the species is a native of Britain,” continued Uncle Thomas, “it
is in America where it is seen to most advantage, as its habits can be
more easily watched from the vast extent of the broad waters by which
some of the majestic rivers are distinguished. It has accordingly
attracted the particular notice of two of the most eminent American
naturalists. Here is Wilson’s account of its mode of fishing, and the
manner in which it seizes its prey.”
Uncle Thomas then took down from a shelf a volume of Wilson’s “American
Ornithology,” and turning to the account of the Fish-Hawk, which he
explained was the name by which the bird was known in America, “and
though” said he, “as I have already told you, it is smaller than the
Golden Eagle, yet its general character is the same; and its size and
strength entitle it to the more high-sounding name.” He then pointed out
the passage which he wished Harry to read, which was as follows:—
“On leaving the nest, the Osprey usually flies direct till he comes to
the sea, then sails around, in easy curving lines, turning sometimes in
the air as on a pivot, apparently without the least exertion, rarely
moving the wings, his legs extended in a straight line behind, and his
remarkable length, and curvature or bend of wing, distinguishing him
from all other Hawks. The height at which he thus elegantly glides is
various, from one hundred to one hundred and fifty and two hundred feet,
sometimes much higher, all the while calmly reconnoitering the face of
the deep below. Suddenly he is seen to check his course, as if struck by
a particular object, which he seems to survey for a few moments with
such steadiness that he appears fixed in air, flapping his wings. This
object, however, he abandons, or rather, the fish he had in his eye has
disappeared, and he is again seen sailing around as before. Now, his
attention is again arrested, and he descends with great rapidity, but,
ere he reaches the surface, shoots off on another course, as if ashamed
that another victim had escaped him. He now sails at a short height
above the surface, and, by a zig-zag descent, and without seeming to dip
his feet in the water, seizes a fish, which, after carrying a short
distance, he probably drops, or yields up to the Bald Eagle, and again
ascends by easy spiral circles to the higher regions of the air, where
he glides about in all the ease and majesty of his species. At once,
from this sublime and aerial height, he descends like a perpendicular
torrent, plunging into the sea with a loud rushing sound, and with the
certainty of a rifle-shot. In a few moments he emerges, bearing in his
claws his struggling prey, which he always carries head foremost, and,
having risen a few feet above the surface, shakes himself as a
Water-Spaniel would do, and directs his heavy and laborious course
directly for the land. If the wind blows hard, and his nest lies in the
quarter from whence it comes, it is amusing to observe with what
judgment and exertion he beats to windward, not in a direct line, that
is, _in the wind’s eye_, but making several successive tacks to gain his
purpose. This will appear the more striking, when we consider the size
of the fish which he sometimes bears along. A Shad was taken from a
Fish-Hawk near Great Egg Harbour, on which he had begun to regale
himself, and had already ate a considerable portion of it; the remainder
weighed six pounds. Another Fish-Hawk was passing the same place, with a
large Flounder in his grasp, which struggled and shook him so, that he
dropped it on the shore. The Flounder was picked up, and served the
whole family for dinner. It is a singular fact, that the Hawk never
descends to pick up a fish which he happens to drop either on the land
or in the water. There is a kind of abstemious dignity in this habit of
the Hawk superior to the gluttonous voracity displayed by most other
birds of prey, particularly by the Bald Eagle. The Hawk, however, in his
fishing pursuits, sometimes mistakes his mark, or overrates his
strength, by striking fish too large and powerful for him to manage, by
whom he is suddenly dragged under water; and though he sometime succeeds
in extricating himself, after being taken three or four times down, yet
oftener both parties perish. The bodies of Sturgeon, and of several
other large fish, with a Fish Hawk fast grappled in them, have at
various times been found dead on the shore, cast up by the waves.”
“That is very curious,” said John. “I wonder the Eagle does not relax
his hold of the fish when it finds it is too strong for him.”
“The talons of the Eagle tribe, with which they secure their prey,” said
Uncle Thomas, “are remarkably sharp and powerful instruments, nor is the
power with which they wield them less remarkable, but, like all other
muscular power, its greatest force can be exerted in one direction only.
Thus, for instance, John, in the case of your own hand, the power with
which you could close your fingers on a cylinder compared to that which,
supposing it hollow, you could exercise on it by opening them (or
applying that power backwards,) is at least ten to one. This will
explain to you how it is that the Eagles are sometimes caught in the way
Mr. Wilson has stated. They seize their prey so firmly that their talons
get fixed in the animal’s flesh, and they are unable to withdraw them.
“In Britain,” continued Uncle Thomas, “several instances of the same
kind have been observed. On a very sultry day in the month of July a
shepherd, while engaged in searching for some missing Sheep, observed an
Eagle seated on the banks of a deep pool, apparently watching its prey.
Presently it darted into the water, and seized, with a powerful grasp, a
large Salmon. A desperate struggle now took place, and the shepherd
hurrying to the spot found the Eagle unable to extricate itself, and
frequently pulled under water by his vigorous antagonist. Seizing a
large stone, the shepherd threw it at the combatants with such force
that it broke the Eagle’s wing, and the Salmon exhausted by its violent
struggles, suffered itself to be captured without difficulty.
“An adventure of the same kind,” said Uncle Thomas, “in which, however,
the Eagle was victorious, is related by a Scotch clergyman. A large
Eagle in one of its hunting excursions observing a Halibut—a large flat
fish somewhat resembling a Turbot—within its reach, stooped down and
struck his powerful talons into its back; a struggle now took place, but
the fish not possessing the agility of the salmon was at length
overcome. It was too large however, for the Eagle to carry off, so,
spreading its wings as a sailor would do the sail of a boat, it remained
seated on the back of the Halibut till the wind bore it to the shore.
Unhappily for the poor Eagle, however, its troubles did not end here,
for its motions having been watched, some people rushed in and took it
alive before it could extricate itself.”
“Poor creature!” said Jane, “he deserved to escape after displaying so
much ingenuity.”
“Harry,” said Uncle Thomas, “will now have the goodness to read to us
Audubon’s very charming account of what he calls the Great American
Eagle, but which is supposed to be merely the Osprey in its young
plumage. Here it is:”—
“Never shall I forget the delight which the first sight that I obtained
of this noble bird gave me. Not even Herschel, when he discovered the
planet which bears his name, could have experienced more rapturous
feelings. We were on a trading voyage, ascending the Upper Mississippi.
The keen wintry blasts whistled around us, and the cold from which I
suffered had, in a great degree, extinguished the deep interest which,
at other seasons, this magnificent river has been wont to awake in me. I
lay stretched beside our patroon. The safety of our cargo was forgotten,
and the only thing that called my attention was the multitude of Ducks
of different species, accompanied by vast flocks of Swans, which from
time to time passed us. My patroon, a Canadian, had been engaged many
years in the fur trade. He was a man of much intelligence; and,
perceiving that these birds had engaged my curiosity, seemed anxious to
find some new object to divert me. An Eagle flew over us. ‘How
fortunate!’ he exclaimed; ‘this is what I could have wished. Look, Sir!
the Great Eagle, and the only one I have seen since I left the lakes.’ I
was instantly on my feet, and, having observed it attentively,
concluded, as I lost it in the distance, that it was a species quite new
to me. My patroon assured me that such birds were indeed rare; that they
sometimes followed the hunters, to feed on the entrails of animals which
they had killed, when the lakes were frozen over, but that, when the
lakes were open, they would dive in the daytime after fish, and snatch
them up in the manner of the Fishing Hawk, and that they roosted
generally on the shelves of the rocks, where they built their nests.
“Convinced that the bird was unknown to naturalists, I felt particularly
anxious to learn its habits, and to discover in what particulars it
differed from the rest of its genus. My next meeting with it was a few
years afterwards, whilst engaged in collecting Cray-Fish on one of those
flats which border and divide Green River, in Kentucky, near its
junction with the Ohio. The river is there bordered by a range of high
cliffs, which, for some distance, follow its windings. I observed on the
rocks, which, at that place, are nearly perpendicular, signs of a nest
which I fancied might belong to the Owls that might have resorted
thither. I mentioned the circumstance to my companions, when one of
them, who lived within a mile of the place, told me it was the nest of
the Brown Eagle, meaning the White-Headed Eagle in its immature state. I
assured him that this could not be, and remarked that neither the old
nor the young birds of that species ever build in such places, but
always in trees. Although he could not answer my objection he stoutly
maintained that a Brown Eagle of some kind above the usual size had
built there, and added, that he had espied the nest some days before,
and had seen one of the old birds dive and catch a fish. This he thought
strange, having till then always observed that both Brown Eagles and
Bald Eagles procured this kind of food by robbing the Fish-Hawks. He
said that if I felt particularly anxious to know what nest it was I
might soon satisfy myself, as the old birds would come and feed their
young with fish, for he had seen them do so before.
“In high expectation, I seated myself at about a hundred yards from the
foot of the rock. Never did time pass more slowly. I could not help
betraying the most impatient curiosity, for my hopes whispered it was a
Sea-Eagle’s nest. Two long hours had elapsed before the old bird made
his appearance, which was announced to us by the loud hissings of the
two young ones, which crawled to the extremity of the hole to receive a
fine fish. I had a perfect view of this noble bird as he held himself to
the edging rock, hanging like the Barn, Bank, or Social Swallow; his
tail spread, and his wings partly so. I trembled lest a word should
escape from my companions.—The slightest murmur had been treason from
them. They entered into my feelings, and, although little interested,
gazed with me. In a few minutes the other parent joined its mate, and,
from the difference in size (the female of rapacious birds being much
larger), we knew this to be the mother bird. She also had brought a
fish; but, more cautious than her mate, she glanced her quick and
piercing eye around, and instantly perceived that her abode had been
discovered. She dropped her prey, with a loud shriek communicated the
alarm to the male, and, hovering with him over our heads, kept up a
growling cry to intimidate us from our suspected design. This watchful
solicitude I have ever found peculiar to the female,—must I be
understood to speak only of birds?
“The young having concealed themselves, we went and picked up the fish
which the mother had let fall. It was a white Perch, weighing about five
pounds and a half. The upper part of the head was broken in, and the
back torn by the talons of the Eagle. We had plainly seen her bearing it
in the manner of the Fish-Hawk.
“This day’s sport being at an end, as we journeyed homewards we agreed
to return the next morning, with the view of obtaining both the old and
young birds; but rainy and tempestuous weather setting in, it became
necessary to defer the expedition till the third day following, when,
with guns and men all in readiness, we reached the rock. Some posted
themselves at the foot, others upon it, but in vain. We passed the
entire day without either seeing or hearing an Eagle, the sagacious
birds, no doubt, having anticipated an invasion, and removed their young
to new quarters.
“I come at last to the day which I had so often and so ardently desired.
Two years had gone by since the discovery of the nest, in fruitless
excursions; but my wishes were no longer to remain ungratified. In
returning from the little village of Henderson, I saw an Eagle rise from
a small enclosure not a hundred yards before me, where a few days before
some Hogs had been slaughtered, and alight upon a low tree branching
over the road. I prepared my double-barrelled piece which I constantly
carry, and went slowly and cautiously towards him. Quite fearlessly he
waited my approach, looking upon me with undaunted eye. I fired and he
fell; before I reached him he was dead. With what delight did I survey
the magnificent bird! Had the finest Salmon ever pleased him as he did
me? Never. I ran and presented him to my friend with a pride which they
alone can feel who, like me, have devoted themselves from their earliest
childhood to such pursuits, and who have derived from them their first
pleasures. To others I must seem to prattle out of fashion.”
“Mr. Audubon seems to have been a very keen sportsman,” remarked Mary.
“He is a most enthusiastic naturalist,” said Uncle Thomas, “and if we
have time this evening before you go I will tell you a little story of
his perseverance which I am sure will interest you, but there is still
another Eagle which I must first introduce to you, the White-Headed or
Bald Eagle. It also is an American species, and is thus described by our
friend Wilson.”—
“Shall I read it, Uncle Thomas?” asked Harry.
“Or I?” enquired John.
“Thank you, Harry,” replied Uncle Thomas; “I think we have already taxed
you sufficiently for one night; John will be so kind:”—
“This distinguished bird,” says this equally distinguished naturalist,
“as he is the most beautiful of his tribe in this part of the world, is
entitled to particular notice. The celebrated cataract of Niagara is a
noted place of resort for the Bald Eagle, as well on account of the fish
procured there, as for the numerous carcasses of Squirrels, Deer, Bears,
and various other animals that, in their attempts to cross the river
above the Falls, have been dragged into the current and precipitated
down that tremendous gulf, where, among the rocks that bound the Rapids
below, they furnish a rich repast for the Vulture, the Raven, and the
Bald Eagle, the subject of the present account. Formed by nature for
braving the severest cold; feeding equally on the produce of the sea,
and of the land; possessing powers of flight capable of outstripping
even the tempests themselves; unawed by any thing but man; and, from the
ethereal heights to which it soars, looking abroad at one glance, on an
immeasurable expanse of forests, fields, lakes, and ocean, deep below
him, he appears indifferent to the little localities of change of
seasons; as in a few minutes he can pass from summer to winter, from the
lower to the higher regions of the atmosphere, the abode of eternal
cold, and from thence descend, at will, to the torrid or the arctic
regions of the earth. He is, therefore, found at all seasons in the
countries he inhabits; but prefers such places as have been mentioned
above, from the great partiality he has for fish.
“In procuring these, he displays in a very singular manner the genius
and energy of his character, which is fierce, contemplative, daring, and
tyrannical; attributes not exerted but on particular occasions, but,
when put forth, overpowering all opposition. Elevated on the high dead
limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a wide view of the
neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions
of the various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below;
the snow-white Gulls slowly winnowing the air; the busy Tringæ coursing
along the sands; trains of Ducks streaming over the surface; silent and
watchful Cranes, intent and wading; clamorous Crows; and all the winged
multitudes that subsist by the bounty of this vast liquid magazine of
nature. High over all these hovers one whose action instantly arrests
his whole attention. By his wide curvature of wing, and sudden
suspension in air, he knows him to be the Fish-Hawk, settling over some
devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and, balancing
himself with half-opened wings on the branch, he watches the result.
Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his
attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in
the deep, making the surges foam around. At this moment the eager looks
of the Eagle are all ardour; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees
the Fish-Hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting
in the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for our hero,
who, launching in the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the
Fish-Hawk. Each exerts his utmost to mount above the other, displaying
in these rencounters the most elegant and sublime aerial evolutions. The
unencumbered Eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of
reaching his opponent, when, with a sudden scream, probably of despair
and honest execration, the latter drops his fish; the Eagle poising
himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a
whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears
his ill-gotten booty silently away to the woods.”
“How very naughty!” said Jane.
“I certainly cannot commend the Bald Eagle for such conduct,” said Uncle
Thomas; “but he is not always thus dependent on the exertions of the
Osprey. It is only when he takes a fancy to a fish dinner that he is so
unjust. At other times he seeks his food in the field and the forest,
pouncing down upon the smaller animals, and destroying Hares and Lambs,
as well as Ducks and Game Birds. One has been known even to attack a
Dog.
“The intrepidity of his character,” continued Uncle Thomas, “may be
farther illustrated by an incident which occurred a few years ago near
New Jersey. A woman, who happened to be weeding in a garden, had set her
child down near, to amuse itself, while she was at work, when a sudden
scream from the child alarmed her, and, starting up, she beheld the
infant thrown down, and dragged along for a short distance, and a large
Bald Eagle bearing off a fragment of its frock; which, being the only
part seized, and giving way, fortunately saved the life of the infant.”
“That was indeed providential!” remarked Jane.
“There is another trait in the character of the White-Headed Eagle,”
said Uncle Thomas; “namely, its affection for its young, of which I must
not omit to tell you, in order to counterbalance the impression which
his robbing the Osprey has made upon you. It also is related by Wilson.
‘As a proof of the attachment of the Bald Eagle to its young,’ says he,
‘a person near Norfolk informed me that in clearing a piece of wood on
his place, they met with a large dead pine tree, on which was a Bald
Eagle’s nest and young. The tree being on fire more than half way up,
and the flames rapidly ascending, the parent Eagle darted around and
among the flames, until her plumage was so much injured, that it was
with difficulty she could make her escape, and even then, she several
times attempted to return to relieve her offspring.’”
“I should not have expected to find so much affection united with so
many evil qualities,” said Mary.
“It is only among rational creatures,” said Uncle Thomas; “and not even
always among them—perhaps it is only certainly to be found in the
character of GOD himself—that we find justice and power going hand in
hand; but affection for their offspring is an instinct which the Creator
has implanted in the breasts of all his creatures. I have however
already detained you too late this evening, so must bid you good night.”
“But the story about Audubon, Uncle Thomas?” said Harry.
“Oh, it is soon told,” said Uncle Thomas; “but I hope the moral you will
long remember. From his earliest years, Mr. Audubon has been an
enthusiastic student of Nature. His whole time has been devoted to it,
and years spent in traversing the woods and prairies of his native
country, studying the habits and manners of Birds. His rambles, he tells
us, speaking of these wanderings, invariably commenced at break of day;
and to return wet with dew and bearing a feathered prize was the highest
enjoyment of his life. After a long time spent in these enquiries, an
accident which happened to two hundred of the drawings which he had made
of the various Birds which he found, nearly put a stop to his researches
in ornithology. ‘I shall relate it,’ he says, ‘merely to show how far
enthusiasm—for by no other name can I call the persevering zeal with
which I laboured—may enable the observer of Nature to surmount the most
disheartening obstacles.’ I left the village where I had resided for
several years, to proceed to Philadelphia on business. I looked to all
my drawings before my departure, placed them carefully in a wooden box,
and gave them in charge to a relative, with injunctions to see that no
injury should happen to them. My absence was for several months, and
when I returned, after having enjoyed the pleasures of home for a few
days, I inquired after my box, and what I was pleased to call my
treasure. The box was produced and opened; but, reader, feel for me: a
pair of Norway Rats had taken possession of the whole, and had reared a
young family amongst the gnawed bits of paper which, but a few months
before, represented nearly a thousand inhabitants of the air! The
burning heat which instantly rushed through my brain was too great to be
endured, without affecting the whole of my nervous system. I slept not
for several nights, and the days passed like days of oblivion, until the
animal powers being recalled into action through the strength of my
constitution, I took up my gun, my note-book, and my pencil, and went
forth to the woods as gaily as if nothing had happened. I felt pleased
that I might now make much better drawings than before, and ere less
than three years had elapsed, I had my portfolio filled again.”