The Eagle

We had a hay field that was alongside a marsh or swamp land. The grass was exceptionally high and provided coverage for a verity of birds. One day while working in that particular hay field, I suppose we were working close to the fence against the swamp, when we frightened three young eaglets. The birds would fly eight or ten feet at a time and then hit the ground. Well, being boys, Dell, Andy and I wanted to catch those young eaglets.

We climbed over the fence and took after the three beautiful eaglets. We tried, but we just couldn’t make the grade, especially me as I was too short legged. Dell and Andy would almost get their hands on one before it became air born then it would fly a short distance and then light. It seemed as though their bodies were too heavy for their wings. Again, Dell or Andy would almost get one of them in their clutches and then the bird would be off again.

Dad got into the chase and he did catch one. He had long legs, being around six feet tall, and he managed to get an eaglet into his hands. Boy Howdy! How it did fight! Flapping dad in the face with its long, spread out wings, and snapping at him with its beak. After dad caught it, I can remember dad telling us to keep away from it. He said it was dangerous. Every time we would put a stick or anything close to it, the eagle would make a loud noise each time it snapped its jaws together. Its jaw must have had a lot of power in it. It would break a small stick plumb in two.

During the fracas of catching the eagle, it sank its claws or talons into dad’s arm between the wrist and the elbow. Dell, Andy and dad, with me watching, had a hard time getting the eagle to turn loose. Dad didn’t want to hurt the bird and kept saying, “I don’t want to kill it in order to get it loose.” Finally, they got its claws out of dad’s arm. I can remember seeing the blood run down his arm and off his fingers.

We held the eaglet down with a greasewood bush, looking it over. It was a beautiful bird, a dark reddish brown color and, it seemed to me, it had a little white on its head. Dad thought it was unusual for eagles to hatch their young in swamp or marsh land. He thought usually they nested in high peaks, ledges, etc.

After looking it over and especially those talons and its beak with sort of a hook on it, dad said to let it go. We saw to it and got it back into the swamp where the others were.