wounded the animal, but
the wound only served to make it more angry: and I could hear it purring
and spitting like a tom-cat, only far louder.

"The eagle again mounted back into the air, but soon wheeled round and
shot down a second time. This time the lynx sprang forward to meet it,
and I could hear the concussion of their bodies as they came together. I
think the eagle must have been crippled, so that it could not fly up
again, for the fight from that time was carried on upon the ground. The
lynx seemed anxious to grasp some part of his antagonist's body--and at
times I thought he had succeeded--but then he was beaten off again by
the bird, that fought furiously with wings, beak, and talons."

[Illustration: THE LYNX AND THE GOLDEN EAGLE.]

"The lynx now appeared to be the attacking party, as I saw him
repeatedly spring forward at the eagle, while the latter always received
him upon its claws, lying with its back upon the snow. Both fur and
feathers flew in every direction, and sometimes the combatants were so
covered with the snow-spray that I could see neither of them.

"I watched the conflict for several minutes, until it occurred to me,
that my best time to get near enough for a shot was just while they were
in the thick of it, and not likely to heed me. I therefore moved
silently out of the bushes; and, keeping Marengo in the string, crept
forward. I had but the one bullet to give them, and with that I could
not shoot both; but I knew that the quadruped was eatable, and, as I was
not sure about the bird, I very easily made choice, and shot the lynx.
To my surprise the eagle did not fly off, and I now saw that one of its
wings was disabled! He was still strong enough, however, to scratch
Marengo severely before the latter could master him. As to the lynx, he
had been roughly handled. His skin was torn in several places, and one
of his eyes, as you see, regularly 'gouged out.'"

Here Basil ended his narration; and after an interval, during which some
fresh wood was chopped and thrown upon the fire, Norman, in turn,
commenced relating what had befallen him.

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE "ALARM BIRD" AND THE CARIBOU.

"There wasn't much 'adventure' in my day's sport," said he, "though I
might call it a 'bird-adventure' too, for if it hadn't been for a bird I
shouldn't have had it. I shot a deer--that's all. But maybe it would be
curious for you to know how I came to find the animal, so I'll tell you.

"The