Of all the birds with which we are acquainted, the eagle is looked upon as the most noble, and the most remarkable for its strength. There are six different kinds; the one called “melanaetos” or black eagle by the Greeks, and “valeria” in our language, the least in size of them all, but the most remarkable for its strength, is of a blackish color. It is the only one among all the eagles that feeds its young; for the others, as we shall presently mention, drive them away; it is the only one too that has neither cry nor murmur; it is an inhabitant of the mountains. The second kind is the pygargus (white tail), an inhabitant of the cities and plains, and distinguished by the whiteness of its tail. The third is the morphnos; it is the second in size and strength, and dwells in the vicinity of lakes. PhemonoË, who was styled the “daughter of Apollo,” has stated that this eagle has teeth, but that it has neither voice nor tongue; she says also that it is the blackest of all the eagles, and has a longer tail than the rest; Boeus is of the same opinion. This eagle has the instinct to break the shell of the tortoise by letting it fall from aloft, a circumstance which caused the death of the poet Æschylus. An oracle, it is said, had predicted his death on that day by the fall of a house, upon which he took the precaution of trusting himself only under the canopy of the heavens.

The fourth kind of eagle is the “percnopterus” (black wing), with much the appearance of the vulture, having remarkably small wings, while the rest of the body is larger than the others; but it is of a timid and degenerate nature, so that even a raven can beat it. It is always famishing and ravenous, and has a plaintive, murmuring cry. It is the only one among the eagles that will carry off the dead carcass; the others settle on the spot where they have killed their prey. The character of this species causes the fifth one to be known by the distinctive name of “gnesios,” as being the genuine eagle, and the only one of untainted lineage; it is of moderate size, of rather reddish color, and rarely to be met with. The haliÆtus or sea-eagle is the last, and is remarkable for its bright and piercing eye. It poises itself aloft, and the moment it catches sight of a fish in the sea below, pounces headlong upon it, and cleaving the water with its breast, carries off its prey.

The eagle which we have mentioned as forming the third species, pursues the aquatic birds in the vicinity of standing waters: in order to make their escape they plunge into the water every now and then, until at length they are overtaken by lassitude and sleep, upon which the eagle immediately seizes them. The contest that takes place is really a sight worthy to be seen. The bird makes for the shore to seek a refuge, especially if there should happen to be a bed of reeds there; while in the mean time the eagle endeavors to drive it away with repeated blows of its wings, and tumbles into the water in its attempts to seize it. While it is standing on the shore its shadow is seen by the bird, which immediately dives beneath, and then making its way in an opposite direction, emerges at some point at which it thinks it is the least likely to be looked for. This is the reason why these birds swim in flocks, for when in large numbers they are in no danger from the enemy; as by dashing up the spray with their wings they blind him.

Again, it often happens that the eagle is not able to carry the bird aloft on account of its weight, and in consequence they both of them sink together. This and the haliÆtus beat their young ones while in an unfledged state, with their wings, and force them from time to time to look steadily upon the rays of the sun; and if the parent sees either of them wink, or even its eye water, it throws it headlong out of the nest, as being spurious and degenerate, but rears the one whose gaze remains fixed and steady.

Eagles build among rocks and trees; they lay three eggs, and generally hatch but two young ones, though occasionally as many as three have been seen. Being weary of the trouble of rearing both, they drive one of them from the nest: for just at this time the providential foresight of Nature has denied them a sufficiency of food, to save the young of all other animals from becoming their prey. During this period, their talons become reversed, and their feathers grow white from continued hunger, so that it is not to be wondered at that they take a dislike to their young. The ossifrage, however, a kindred species, takes charge of the young ones thus rejected, and rears them with its own; but the parent bird still pursues them with hostility, even when grown up, and drives them away, as being its rivals in rapine. Under any circumstances, one pair of eagles requires a very considerable space of ground to forage over, in order to find sufficient sustenance; for which reason they mark out by boundaries their respective allotments. They do not immediately carry off their prey, but first deposit it on the ground, test its weight and then fly away with it.

They die, not of old age, nor yet of sickness, or of hunger; but the upper part of the beak grows to such an extent, and becomes so curved, that they are unable to open it. They take the wing, and begin upon the labors of the chase at midday; sitting in idleness during the hours of the morning, until such time as the places of public resort are filled with people. It is said that this is the only bird that has never been killed by lightning; hence usage has pronounced it to be the armor-bearer of Jove.

Caius Marius, in his second consulship, assigned the eagle exclusively to the Roman legions. Before that period it had only held the first rank, over four others, the wolf, the minotaur, the horse, and the wild boar, each of which preceded a single division. Some few years before his time it had begun to be the custom to carry only the eagle into battle, the other standards being left behind in camp; but Marius abolished the rest of them entirely. Since then, it has been remarked that hardly ever has a Roman legion encamped for the winter, without a pair of eagles making their appearance at the spot.

The first two species of eagle not only prey upon the whole of the smaller quadrupeds, but will attack even deer. Rolling in the dust, the eagle covers its body all over with it, then perching on the antlers of the animal, shakes the dust into its eyes, while at the same time it beats it on the head with its wings, until the creature at last precipitates itself down the rocks. Nor is this one enemy sufficient for it; it has still more terrible combats with the dragon, and the issue is much more doubtful, although the battle is fought in the air. The dragon seeks the eggs of the eagle with a mischievous avidity; while the eagle, in return, carries it off whenever it happens to see it; upon these occasions, the dragon coils itself about the wings of the bird in multiplied folds, until at last they fall to the earth together.

There is a very famous story about an eagle at the city of Sestos. Having been reared by a little girl, it used to testify its gratitude for her kindness, first by bringing her birds, and in due time various other kinds of prey: at last she died, upon which the bird threw itself on the lighted pile, and was consumed with her body. In memory of this event, the inhabitants raised upon the spot what they called a heroic monument, in honor of Jupiter and the damsel, the eagle being a bird consecrated to that divinity.