"I shall not do it," Reynolds emphatically declared. "I have not
prayed for so long, that I'm not going to act the hypocrite now, and
cry for help when I'm in a tight corner. I daresay He would assist me,
but I am ashamed to ask Him. If I should only think of a friend when I
am in trouble I should consider myself a mean cur, and unfit to have
the friendship of anyone. And that's about how I stand with Him, so I
do not consider myself worthy of His help."

Although Reynolds reasoned in this manner, yet that picture of The Good
Shepherd inspired him. He could not get it out of his mind as he lay
there watching the eagle soaring nearer and nearer.

"I wonder what that bird is after?" he mused. "It is coming this way,
and it seems to be getting ready to alight. Perhaps it has a nest
somewhere on this hill."

This thought aroused him. An eagle's nest! It was generally built on
some high rocky place, and why should there not be one here? And if
so, there might be eggs, and eggs would mean food for a starving man.

Eagerly and anxiously he watched the bird now, hoping and longing that
it would alight close to where he was crouching. Neither was he
disappointed, for in a few minutes the eagle drove straight for the
hill, about fifty yards above, and landed upon a rocky ledge. Seizing
a stick lying near, with cat-like agility, Reynolds sprang forward, and
hurried to the spot where the bird had alighted. From what he had
heard and read about eagles he surmised that a struggle lay ahead of
him, so he clutched the stick firmly as he advanced.