cliffs that towered high above the mountain trail for a while,
nothing was heard in ravine or glade save the brawling of the
crystal-clear brook that went dashing and tumbling over the stones
of its rough bed, in a mad race to its fall of twenty feet or
more, or the crunching of succulent twigs and leaves of cottonwood,
or the snapping of dead wood, as old Keno moved leisurely about
from one spot to another. Side by side, on a jutting crag that
leaned far out over the brook, sat a splendid pair of golden eagles,
joyously preening their plumage in the spring sunshine. The birds
aroused no special interest in Ralph's mind, however, on this
particular morning; he had seen them many times before, while
rambling over the mountains with his father. But the sight of
their glittering napes awakened memories of that loved and admired
man.

"Dad used to say---and I guess he believed it, too---that iron in
paying quantities lies just beneath the stones of our little farm,"
mused Ralph. "We might become rich, mother and I, if we could only
get money enough to open up our mine."

One of the eagles, rare birds in that part of the Country, evidently
alarmed or annoyed at the approach of some intruder on their domain,
some animal or human being Unseen by Ralph, thrust out its head,
opened its beak, and uttered a harsh shrill cry; at which its mate
walked forward to the very edge of the crag, poised there for an
instant, and then, spreading wide wings, launched itself into the
air and sailed swiftly out of sight. It returned, however, in a
few minutes and rejoined its mate on the ledge of rock.

"Old King Eagle," called Ralph, whimsically, knowing well that