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.”