they approached the summit the feathery frost-work grew more and more
exquisitely delicate and beautiful, and yet it was proving to be as
evanescent as a dream, for in all sunny place it was already vanishing.
They had scarcely passed beyond the second summit when Burt uttered an
exclamation of regretful disgust. "By all that's unlucky," he cried, "if
there isn't an eagle sitting on yonder ledge! I could kill him with
bird-shot, and I haven't even a popgun with me."

"It's too bad," sympathized Amy. "Let us drive as near as we can, and get
a good view before he flies."

To their great surprise, he did not move as they approached, but only
glared at them with his savage eye.

"Well," said Burt, "after trying for hours to get within rifle range,
this exceeds anything I ever saw. I wonder if he is wounded and cannot
fly." Suddenly he sprang out, and took a strap from the harness. "Hold
the horse, Amy. I think I know what is the trouble with his majesty, and
we may be able to return with a royal captive."

He drew near the eagle slowly and warily, and soon perceived that he was
incased in ice from head to foot, and only retained the power of slightly
moving his head. The creature was completely helpless, and must remain so
until his icy fetters thawed out. His wings were frozen to his sides, his
legs covered with ice, as were also his talons, and the dead branch of a
low pine on which he had perched hours before. Icicles hung around him,
making a most fantastic fringe. Only his defiant eye and open beak could
give expression to his untamed, undaunted spirit. It was evident that the
bird made a fierce internal struggle to escape, but was held as in a
vise.