d had watched without molesting them. But presently he had the
boyish idea that it would be interesting to see and count their eggs,
and take note of how their nest was lined.

Cautiously he approached the nest, moving very slowly and stealthily.
But the guardian male resented this bold intrusion, and attacked him
with beak and talons and fiercely-flapping wings.

Rube drew his revolver, but did not shoot. He used the weapon only as
a club with which to defend himself, while he sheltered his body from
the assault by crouching low, with his back wedged in a cleft of rock.

The eagle pursued him there and glared at him menacingly. He had what
he afterwards called a grand sight of the bird's wonderful clear eyes,
its hooked beak, and its wicked-looking claws, and he marvelled at the
enormous stretch of its pinions.

Once it made a dash at him, spreading itself close against the wall of
rock, covering him like a cloak. He thrust out his free hand to grab
at one of its legs, but, missing the leg, he seized hold of its tail,
pulling out three of the long white plumes. He crouched still closer
in his shelter, where neither beak nor talon could touch him. And soon
the eagle drew off.

When at length he raised his head to investigate, he saw the two birds
rising through the misty air and flying off together over the mountains.

Rain was now falling heavily, and the mist was thickening. He heard
the whisper of the mountain streams growing louder and louder until it
became a deep, prolonged murmur. Quite near to him a torrent of brown,
foaming water was rushing and leaping down the steep.

Rube knew it would be futile to attempt to return to camp before
daybreak. He judged that Kiddie would understand his absence and not
worry unduly. So he ate what food he had brought in his haversack,
and, regardless of the driving rain, curled himself up to try to sleep.

Once during the long, uncomfortable night he heard from afar, or
fancied that he heard, Kiddie's familiar, penetrating whistle. He knew
that his own comparatively feeble whistle in response would not carry
far enough to be even faintly heard. There were no means by which he
could send back an answering signal. No fire smoke or fitful glow
could be seen, no cry or call be heard.

Later in the night, when the moon broke through the clouds, he again
very faintly caught the sound of Kiddie's whistle; so faintly that he
could not distinguish the notes which he