THE WHITE-HEAD EAGLE.
We started a little after daylight; and as my skiffman had
forewarned me, found the current exceedingly sharp, and not a little
dangerous--especially as we approached the island.
What with snags, whirls and "sawyers," we had some difficulty in making
land, and might not have succeeded, but for a large tree that had
fallen over the bank and formed a sort of pier to which we were able to
make fast the skiff. The tree was a gigantic cottonwood, whose weight
had hindered the current from carrying it off.
Scrambling along the trunk, I at length succeeded in planting my foot
upon _terra firma_.
The nest I supposed could not be far off, and by the directions given
me, I could easily find it.
The darky did not seem inclined to go ashore, or otherwise assist me in
the search. He made some excuse about taking care of the skiff, and in
the skiff I left him.
I again thought his behavior strange, but made no objection to his
remaining. In finding the eagles, the old negro could be of no
particular service to me. The island did not appear to be of any great
superficial extent. I could soon traverse it in every direction. If the
birds were upon it, I should see or hear them, and in stalking them I
would be better alone--my sable companion not being much of a sportsman.
Getting over the ground did not prove such an easy task. It was thickly
studded with heavy timber--cottonwood, tulip-tree, and cypress; and
between the trunks there was an undergrowth of palmettoes, in places
almost impenetrable.
Although the sun was shining brightly--I had left it so outside the
island--under the trees it resembled twilight. In addition to their own
thick foliage, they were festooned with Spanish moss, that shut out the
sky like a curtain.
I soon despaired of seeing any thing of the eagles. Looking overhead,
I could not see the sky--much less any object depending upon its
brightness for being made visible.
I began to think of going back to the river-bank; and had already
stopped in my tracks, when I perceived a slender list of light stealing
through the timber beyond. It might be that I had arrived near the
other side of the island. In any case, it was worth while going on to
see; and I proceeded toward the light.
It proved only an opening among the trees, where a gigantic deadwood,
divested of its leaves, permitted the sunlight to descend upon the
earth.
The tree, an enormous _liriodendron_, had been struck by lightning,
and long since dead. The parasites, that would otherwise have been
sustained by its sap, had perished along with it, and dropped from its
branches, lay strewed upon the ground below. Its huge limbs, blanched
and twigless, were stretched like skeleton arms toward the sky. Its
main stem had been broken off near the summit; yet still overtopped the
surrounding forest.
In the fork where the fracture had occurred, I could see a huge
protuberance that did not seem part of the tree. It was a collection of
dead sticks and branches, rudely wattled together, evidently the nest
for which I was searching.
As I stood regarding it with upturned eyes, a strange sound came into
my ears, almost filling them with its harsh intonations. I can compare
it to nothing so near to what it seemed, as the filing of a huge frame
saw, or the laugh of a maniac escaped from his keeper.
As I stood listening, it seemed to repeat itself in echoes as if the
whole island had suddenly been converted into a pandemonium.
I was not dismayed. The sound was not unknown to me. I knew it to be
the scream of the white-headed eagle.
I had just time to get my rifle ready for firing, when four of these
grand birds--the parents and brood of which I had heard spoken--came
sailing overhead. Their broad-spreading wings shadowed the patch of
open ground as they soared majestically above the blighted tree.
I was in hopes that one or other of them would alight, and give me
a chance of obtaining something like a fair shot. But in this I was
disappointed. Even over their own nest they were shy. It had been long
forsaken, and the first that uttered the cry had sprung up from it,
alarmed by my presence below.
I waited for some time, but perceiving that they did not intend to
alight, I determined to risk the chance of a flying shot. What would I
not have given at that moment for a smooth-bore, loaded with "buck."
Unfortunately I carried a rifle, with only a single bullet.
The four eagles continued to circle around the forsaken nest.
I observed that only two of the four had the white head and tail. The
other two were of a uniform dusky brown. The former I knew to be the
old birds with plumage matured.
Choosing the larger of these, I took aim and fired.
The eagle fell at my feet, crippled by a shot through the shoulder.
But I had not yet secured my prize, and on through the palmettoes I
rushed after the wounded bird, that went screaming and fluttering
before me.
More than a hundred yards was made in this way, when a blow from the
butt of my rifle at length put an end to the scrambling chase, and the
eagle was mine. It was the female, a fine bird, in perfect plumage.
By this the other three had gone clear off from the island, as I could
tell by their screams heard dying away in the far distance.