Lying on his back in the narrow trail, with his eyes continually
roving over the jagged side of the cliff, Ralph became drowsy, in
spite of his desire to catch sight of the eagles when they rose to
stretch their wings in the first flight of the day. Along the
eastern rim of the hills the sky was paling into a yellow glow
without a cloud to mar its perfect clarity.

How long the young hunter dozed he could not tell, but he roused
with a start, and sat bolt upright, glancing around him impatiently.
Directly over his head, soaring high over the trees, was one of the
great birds, evidently in search of prey: perhaps an unwary rabbit,
squirrel, or fat woodchuck, for breakfast.

Catching sight of the bird as it hung poised in mid air, Ralph
muttered:

"If that's the male, hunting alone, the female must be on the
nest---which will make matters twice as difficult for me."

Even as he watched it, the solitary bird made a sudden swoop downward,
sailed closer over the tops of the highest trees, and then suddenly
dived into their midst, emerging after a few minutes with a small
limp form seized in its talons. With this prize the eagle now flew
swiftly and silently to a ledge on the side of the cliff, and
uttered a curious loud whistle of invitation. In response, the
larger bird, the female, appeared on the ledge, and the pair
forthwith began their meal.

Very cautiously, so that his slow movements might have the least
possible chance of being observed, Ralph reached out for his rifle,