Imagine yourself, on a day early in November, floating slowly down
the Mississippi River. The near approach of winter brings millions of
waterfowl on whistling wings from the countries of the North to seek a
milder climate in which to sojourn for a season.
The eagle is seen perched on the highest branch of the tallest tree by the
margin of the broad stream. His glistening but pitiless eye looks over
water and land and sees objects afar off. He listens to every sound that
comes to his quick ear, glancing now and then to the earth beneath, lest
the light tread of the rabbit may pass unheard.
His mate is perched on the other side of the river, and now and then warns
him by a cry to continue patient. At this well-known call he partly opens
his broad wings and answers to her voice in tones not unlike the laugh
of a madman. Ducks and many smaller waterfowl are seen passing rapidly
towards the South; but the eagle heeds them not--they are for the time
beneath his attention.
The next moment, however, the wild, trumpet-like sound of a distant swan
is heard. The eagle suddenly shakes his body, raises his wings, and makes
ready for flight. A shriek from his mate comes across the stream, for she
is fully as watchful as he.
The snow-white bird is now in sight; her long neck is stretched forward;
her eyes are as watchful as those of her enemy; her large wings seem with
difficulty to support the weight of her body. Nearer and nearer she comes.
The eagle has marked her for his prey.
As the swan is about to pass the dreaded pair, the eagle starts from his
perch with an awful scream. He glides through the air like a falling star,
and, like a flash of lightning, comes upon the timid bird, which now, in
agony and despair, seeks to escape the grasp of his cruel talons. She
would plunge into the stream, did not the eagle force her to remain in the
air by striking at her from beneath.
The hope of escape is soon given up by the swan. She has already become
much weakened. She is about to gasp her last breath, when the eagle
strikes with his talons the under side of her wing and forces the dying
bird to fall in a slanting direction upon the nearest shore.
The eagle’s mate has watched every movement that he has made, and if she
did not assist him in capturing the swan, it was because she felt sure
that his power and courage were quite enough for the deed. She now sails
to the spot where he is waiting for her, and both together turn the breast
of the luckless swan upward and gorge themselves with gore.
--J. J. AUDUBON.