THE COMBAT ON THE CLIFF
Lying on his back in the narrow trail, with his eyes continually
roving over the jagged side of the cliff, Ralph became drowsy, in
spite of his desire to catch sight of the eagles when they rose to
stretch their wings in the first flight of the day. Along the
eastern rim of the hills the sky was paling into a yellow glow
without a cloud to mar its perfect clarity.
How long the young hunter dozed he could not tell, but he roused
with a start, and sat bolt upright, glancing around him impatiently.
Directly over his head, soaring high over the trees, was one of the
great birds, evidently in search of prey: perhaps an unwary rabbit,
squirrel, or fat woodchuck, for breakfast.
Catching sight of the bird as it hung poised in mid air, Ralph
muttered:
"If that's the male, hunting alone, the female must be on the
nest---which will make matters twice as difficult for me."
Even as he watched it, the solitary bird made a sudden swoop downward,
sailed closer over the tops of the highest trees, and then suddenly
dived into their midst, emerging after a few minutes with a small
limp form seized in its talons. With this prize the eagle now flew
swiftly and silently to a ledge on the side of the cliff, and
uttered a curious loud whistle of invitation. In response, the
larger bird, the female, appeared on the ledge, and the pair
forthwith began their meal.
Very cautiously, so that his slow movements might have the least
possible chance of being observed, Ralph reached out for his rifle,
and---shifting his position by crawling forward until the feasting
eagles were within range---fired. At the report, one big bird
toppled over the precipice to a ledge not ten feet above the foaming
water, on the other side of the stream. Its mate, with a harsh
scream of alarm, darted up into the air, circled once over the spot
where Ralph crouched, and flew hastily away. It was so swift in
its flight from the place that Ralph was unable to get a second shot.
Nevertheless, even in his vexation at apparently losing it, Ralph
could not refrain from giving a shout of triumph. Hurriedly securing
his pony, he made a detour of about half a mile in order to cross
the mountain stream; for to cross it at the spot which he had chosen
for his ambush would have been impossible, owing to the depth and
swiftness of the current.
After fording the stream at the further point---under protest from
Keno, who picked his way very carefully and grudgingly over the
treacherous rocky bed---Ralph dismounted and tied the horse to a
tree. Then he walked carefully along the base of the cliff,
crawling or jumping from one rock to another, taking advantage
of every slight projection, and holding his breath for dread lest
he slip and hurl himself into the foaming water. At last he came
to the foot of the rock where, but a short time ago, the eagles
were devouring their breakfast. There he paused to get his wind
and to look for the fallen bird.
Quite out of reach, on the ledge above his head, the female eagle
lay stunned and broken-winged, but still alive. To scale the
cliff was not possible, for here it sloped sharply out over its
base, where it had been worn smooth by the stream at some previous
age when the water was swollen higher. There were no trailing
vines or overhanging saplings strong enough to bear Ralph's weight;
but, foreseeing this very obstacle, he had brought a rope which
he now uncoiled from around his waist. He flung it dexterously
over the ledge. To his utter surprise, it caught there at the
middle, while the other end dangled within his grasp. He seized
it, gave a few strong tugs at each end of the rope to make certain
it was secure, leaving his coat and rifle on the ground, and then
he began to climb up, hand-over-hand.
Gaining the ledge, he at once saw the wounded bird. After a short,
sharp struggle, he dispatched her, and was in the act of tying
the lifeless body to his hunting belt when he was startled suddenly
by a loud whir of wings, and something hit him a stinging blow on
the back of his head. The male eagle, attracted by the shrill
cries of its mate, had come to the rescue!
A hasty glance over his shoulder showed him an alarming glimpse of
the mighty potentate of the air bent on revenge for the death of
his mate. Ralph ducked just in time to escape another blow from
those powerful wings, and he struck out wildly with his right arm,
missing the winged warrior by a mere inch. He saw that he was
going to wage battle, then and there, on the face of that
precipitous cliff.
As he drew his long hunting knife out of its sheath, the eagle
darted at him once more. Ralph threw his arms up to shield his
head and face, and as he did so, his foot slipped. He clutched
frantically at the rock to save himself from falling, and dropped
his knife. He heard it clink on the rocks several feet below his
reach.
Before he could fully recover his footing, the bird was upon him,
beak and talons, seizing the sleeve of his shirt and making gashes
in the boy's arm. By a mighty effort Ralph got his balance again,
and turned to meet the onslaught, waving his arms like flails, to
beat down the force of those wide threshing wings. Again and again
the eagle made a vicious rush, and once managed to get under
Ralph's arm and to take an ugly nip in the flesh just above the
eye. Maddened by the pain of this wound, and half blinded by
the blood which soon began to flow from the cut, Ralph snatched
the dead bird from his belt and swung it around his head like
a club. Once this improvised club crashed against the attacking
bird, and Ralph took advantage of the latter's hasty retreat to
slide down the ropes and land on firmer ground. He tossed the
dead bird aside, and lunged forward to recapture his knife. But
the king of the clouds was not by any means outdone. Indeed, the
sight of his dead mate lying on the rocks, near where Ralph was
crouching with his back protected by the sloping rock wall, seemed
to put a new idea into the crafty bird's brain. Screaming with
rage, he swooped down after Ralph, and alighted on the ground
about two yards from the place where the lad crouched in his protecting
niche. Then, with wings bowed outward and downward like a belligerent
hen, with beak snapping and talons spread wide, rending the air, he
charged straight into Ralph's face.
The plucky youth was ready for this, however, and he awaited the
attack, knife in hand. He was unwilling to use the knife if he
could avoid doing so, for a bad cut might injure the skin and
feathers of the coveted trophy. But it seemed likely that such
considerations would have to be banished in the face of this horrible
danger.
After repeatedly beating back the infuriated eagle, Ralph saw that
his best blows were glancing harmlessly from its shining armor of
feathers, and that the vengeful creature was gaining courage with
every charge. Moreover, in his cramped position he was at a
disadvantage, while the blood trickling down from the wound in his
forehead made his sight uncertain. In desperation he resolved to
turn the knife edge uppermost and to strike with an upward motion
as the bird rushed close.
His next blow showed the wisdom of this course. Aided by the bird's
reckless attack, the keen blade found its mark under one of those
great pounding pinions, and by the diminishing force of the next
charge, and the next, Ralph knew that the eagle was weakening.
Another lucky thrust hurled the wounded bird to the ground, where
it lay kicking feebly for a few moments; then, with a convulsive
jerk, it flopped over and lay still at the edge of the stream.
Ralph slid out from his crevice, and bathed his face in the cold
water. Refreshed, he picked up the two splendid birds and gazed at
them almost sadly, with no feeling of elation. He was full of
admiration for the brave fight they had made.
"I had to do it, I had to do it," he muttered apologetically, as
if seeking an excuse for an act which he found difficult to defend.
"Better do this than to borrow money and get into debt."
Thus he argued; but, in spite of his gladness at having won the
means wherewith his mother might undergo the operation, he felt a
reaction after the excitement of the fight. Weary and wounded, and
moved to a pitying admiration of the prize within his grasp, it was
nothing to the discredit of this simple, manly lad that he shed a
few tears over his victory. Have not seasoned hunters been known
to weep over the death of a noble stag or a gentle doe? And were
these eagles no less noble in their sphere of the animal kingdom?
Almost sadly he tied them to his belt, carefully avoiding further
injury to their plumage; and as he did so, the thought crossed his
mind:
"Wonder what those fellows and the Scout Master would say about
this, if they knew?"
Still wondering, he retraced his steps along the edge of the stream,
back to the spot where he had left Keno. Imagine his dismay and
consternation when he found the tie-rope broken and the pony---gone!
Keno had disappeared! Had he grown restive and wandered away, or
had he been stolen by some lawless prowler among the hills?
The situation, in either case, was bad enough, for the distance
home was long, and Ralph was sore and aching in every limb. Knowing
a horse's infallible instinct for going homeward, he felt no
apprehension that Keno would get lost; yet he realized what a
sensation the pony would make when, provided he were not stolen,
he ambled into the farmyard, saddled and bridled and riderless!
"Mother'll be scared out of her wits!" thought Ralph. "Gee! I wish
this hadn't happened! I wish Keno hadn't bolted like this! My fault,
I suppose; I ought to have tied him more firmly, but in my hurry to
get the first eagle I neglected to do it!"
Removing his belt, he sat down on a flat stone in the sunlight, and
stared at the ground dejectedly.
"I guess this is when little Weary Willie walks home!" he groaned.
"Confound the luck!"
Suddenly his gaze became riveted on a peculiar mark on the soft dry
loam: the imprint of a large paw like that of a cat rising hastily,
he examined the ground all around the place and discovered many
similar tracks.
"It's a bobcat!" he exclaimed aloud. "A big bobcat or a lynx!
The critter must have frightened old Keno and made him hit the
trail home! Hope I don't meet the brute! I've got only two or
three cartridges left."
Pausing only to remove his coat and shirt and to bathe the upper
part of his body in the stream, he put on his garments again and
set forth along the trail. As he walked slowly through the fragrant
woods, squirrels and jays chattered derisively at him overhead, and
frightened rabbits dashed helter-skelter among the thickets. He
gave them not the slightest heed; his chief interest now was to get
home as soon as possible and to relieve his mother from anxiety
over his absence.
To hasten his arrival he resolved upon taking a short-cut through
the thickest part of the forest, which, though it would eventually
lead him out upon the boundary of Silas Perkins' farm, and necessitate
his crossing that surly neighbor's property, would save at least
two miles of the return journey.
Getting his bearings by the sun, in true woodsman's fashion, he
left the trail and struck off through the unblazed aisles of the
wood, going onward farther and farther at a resolute pace. The
sun presently was obscured by the thick canopy of budding trees,
as Ralph descended into a little hollow between two hills, and
dusky shadows contended with mid-daylight. Still the boy staggered
onward, now and then faltering to rest. His wounds gave him little
pain now, though one eye was badly swollen around the cut. But
it bothered him and distracted his mind; and this was probably
the reason why, in his haste and distress, he found himself growing
more and more bewildered by his surroundings. Finally he realized
that he had lost his way.
"And I can't be more than five miles from home, too!" he reproached
himself, in tired disgust.