es. From this forest the strange cry had proceeded, and
from the right bank. Its echoes had hardly ceased, when it was answered
by a similar cry from the trees upon the left. So like were the two,
that it seemed as if some one of God's wild creatures was mocking
another. These cries were hideous enough to frighten any one not used
to them. They had not that effect upon our voyageurs, who knew their
import. One and all of them were familiar with the voice of the
_white-headed eagle_!
The trumpeter knew it as well as any of them, but on him it produced a
far different effect. His terror was apparent, and his intention was all
at once changed. Instead of rising into the air, as he had premeditated,
he suddenly lowered his head, and disappeared under the water!
Again was heard the wild scream and the maniac laugh; and the next
moment an eagle swept out from the timber, and, after a few strokes of
its broad wing, poised itself over the spot where the trumpeter had gone
down. The other, its mate, was seen crossing at the same time from the
opposite side.
Presently the swan rose to the surface, but his head was hardly out of
the water when the eagle once more uttered its wild note, and, half
folding its wings, darted down from above. The swan seemed to have
expected this, for before the eagle could reach the surface, he had gone
under a second time, and the latter, though passing with the velocity of
an arrow, plunged his talons in the water to no purpose. With a cry of
disappointment the eagle mounted back into the air, and commenced
wheeling in circles over the spot. It was now joined by its mate, and
both kept round and round watching for the reappearance of their
intended victim.
Again the swan came to the surface, but before either of the eagles
could swoop upon him he had for the third time disappeared. The swan is
but an indifferent diver; but under such circumstances he was likely to
do his best at it. But what could it avail him? He must soon rise to the
surface to take breath--each time at shorter intervals. He would soon
become fatigued and unable to dive with sufficient celerity, and then
his cruel enemies would be down upon him with their terrible talons.
Such is the usual result, unless the swan takes to the air, which he
sometimes does. In the present case he had built his hopes upon a
different means of escape. He contemplated being able to conceal himself
in a heavy sedge of bulrushes that grew along t
|