CHAPTER VIII

EAGLES


"Speaking of birds, doctor, there are some big fellows around this
winter," said Burtis. "While in the mountains with the wood teams some
days since I saw a gray and a bald eagle sailing around, but could not
get a shot at them. As soon as it grows milder I am going up to the
cliffs on the river to see if I can get within rifle range."

"Oh, come, Burt, I thought you were too good a sportsman to make such a
mistake," the doctor rejoined. "A gray eagle is merely a young bald
eagle. We have only two species of the genuine eagle in this country, the
bald, or American, and the golden, or ring-tailed. The latter is very
rare, for their majesties are not fond of society, even of their own
kind, and two nests are seldom found within thirty miles of each other.
The bald eagle has been common enough, and I have shot many. One morning
long ago I shot two, and had quite a funny experience with one of them."

"Pray tell us about it," said Burtis, glad of a diversion from his
ornithological shortcomings.

"Well, one February morning (I could not have been much over fourteen at
the time) I crossed the river on the ice, and took the train for
Peekskill. Having transacted my business and procured a good supply of
ammunition, I started homeward. From the car windows I saw two eagles
circling over the cliffs of the lower Highlands, and with the rashness