My Tropic Isle by E. J. (Edmund James) Banfield
page 174 of 265 (65%)
page 174 of 265 (65%)
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over the ponds the fish "turned their glistering bellies up" that it
might take liberal choice. Certainly some limitation on the part of the fish seems to operate in favour of the osprey, otherwise the clumsy fisher would oft go hungry. It goes against the grain to speak slightingly of the knightly, white-headed sea-eagle--a friend and almost a companion; but as any one may see that it fishes not for the sport but for the pot, and that the plunge into the water is a shock that is dreaded, no injustice is done. Some birds--and they the most graceful--seem to fish for sport alone. These three fishers fish because, like Kipling's kangaroo, they have to--only the kangaroo hopped. Now, the white-headed sea-eagle, which seems, and with good reason, to be proud of its ruddy back, appears to have no enemy of its kind. While the osprey and the white-bellied sea-eagle fall out and chide and fight, it looks down from some superior height and placidly watches the fish trap, for though knightly it is not above accepting tribute, for it likes fish though it hates fishing. The great osprey seldom crosses the bay without a challenge from its stealthy foe, the white-belly. The voices of both are alike in their dissonance though different in quality and tone, and the smaller bird is invariably the aggressor. This is how they fight, or rather engage in a vulgar brawl which has in it a smack of tragedy. The osprey, with steady beat of outstretched wing, flies "squaking" from its agile enemy, who endeavours to alight on the osprey's back. Just as white-belly stretches its talons for a grip among the osprey's feathers, the osprey turns--and turns without a tremor in its long, sweeping wings--to shake hands with white-belly. For a moment the huge bird rests on its back, silhouetted |
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