s his mantle, to
entangle the dangerous weapons of his adversary. Then he dragged
himself across to the other end of the ledge and attempted to corner
the captive. For this he was not quite quick enough, however. With a
flop and a squawk the bird eluded him, and he realized that he had
better postpone the undertaking till the morrow. Crawling back to his
hollow by the bush, he sank down, utterly exhausted. Not till the
sharp chill which comes with sunset warned him of its necessity, was
he able to grapple with the long, painful problem of getting his shirt
on again.

Through the night he got some broken sleep, though the hardness of his
bed aggravated every hurt he had suffered. On the edge of dawn he saw
the male eagle come again--this time more confidently and
deliberately--to feed the captive. After he was gone, Horner tried to
move, but found himself now, from the night's chill and the austerity
of his bed, altogether helpless. Not till the sun was high enough to
warm him through and through, and not till he had manipulated his legs
and arms assiduously for more than an hour, did his body feel as if it
could ever again be of any service to him. Then he once more got off
his shirt and addressed himself to the catching of the indignant bird
whom he had elected to be his preserver.

Though the anguish caused by every movement was no less intense than
it had been the afternoon before, he was stronger now and more in
possession of his faculties. Before starting the chase, he cut a strip
from his shirt to wind around the leg of the young eagle, in order
that he might be able to tether it tightly without cutting the flesh.
The bird had suddenly become most precious to him!

Very warily he made his approaches, sidling down the ledge so as to
give his quarry the least possible room for escape. As he drew near,
the bird turned and faced him, with its one uninjured wing lifted
menacingly and its formidable beak wide open. Holding the heavy shirt
ready to throw, Horner crept up cautiously, so intent now upon the
game that the anguish in the leg which he dragged stiffly behind him
was almost forgotten. The young bird, meanwhile, waited, motionless
and vigilant, its savage eyes hard as glass.

At last a faint quiver and shrinking in the bird's form, an
involuntary contracting of the feathers, gave warning to Horner's
experienced eye that it was about to spring aside. On the instant he
flung the shirt, keeping hold of it by t