Accordingly, stripping off his coat, and clinging to the tree as if by suction, he began to ascend. It was “hitchety hatchety up I go!” By a process difficult to describe--a sort of insinuation, the propelling power and working machinery of which were invisible--he soon cleared the smooth part of the trunk, and taking hold of the branches, rose limb by limb, till, with breathless interest, I saw him lift his head above the nest and peer into its recess. The best expression of his wonder was his silence. I waited, but no reply. “What is it?” said I, incapable of enduring the suspense. No answer. “What is it, Bill--why don’t you speak?” said I, once more. “Look!” said he, holding up a featherless little monster, about as large as a barn-door fowl--kicking and flapping its wings, and squealing with all its might. “Look! there’s a pair on ’em. They’re young eagles, I’ll be bound, but I never see such critters afore! The nest is as big as a trundle-bed, and there’s a heap of snake-skins, and feathers, and fishes’ tails in it; and there’s a lamb’s head here, that looks in the face like an acquaintance--and I shouldn’t wonder if it belonged to Squire Kellogg’s little cosset that he lost last week--the varmint!” As Bill uttered these last words, his attention, as well my own, was attracted by a rushing sound above, and looking up, we saw an eagle, about a hundred yards in the air, descending like a thunderbolt directly toward Bill’s head. The bird’s wings were close to its body, its tail above and its head beneath, its beak open and its talons half displayed for the blow. Entirely forgetting my gun, in my agony of fear, I exclaimed, “Jump, Bill! for Heaven’s sake jump!” But such was the suddenness of the proceeding, that ere I could fairly utter the words, the formidable bird, with a fearful and vengeful scream, swept down upon his mark. I shut my eyes in very horror. But not so Bill Keeler; there was no taking him by surprise. As the eagle came down, he dodged his head beneath the nest, exposing only a portion of his person, together with the seat of his trowsers. The clash of the eagle’s beak as he swept by, though it seemed like the clangor of a tailor’s shears when forcibly shut, did no harm; but we cannot say as much of the creature’s talons. One of the claws struck the part exposed, and made an incision in the trowsers as well as the skin, of about two inches in length.