Early in July, 1877, two farmers riding in a buggy from Bergholtz, in the easterly part of the town of Niagara, toward the town of Wilson on Lake Ontario, saw a large gray eagle sitting on a fence by the roadside, and watching with much interest some object in a field beyond. Leaving their buggy, they ascertained that the object of its solicitude was an eaglet sitting on the ground, unable to fly, his wings and feathers having been drenched by a heavy shower. One of the men who first reached the young bird found it rather bellicose, and while attempting to secure it was surprised by a vigorous thump on the head from the old bird, accompanied with a sensation of sharp claws in his hair which nearly prostrated him. His assailant then rose quickly some forty feet in the air, and, turning again, descended upon the man with such force as to compel him to relinquish his game. His friend joined him, and for nearly half an hour the two were engaged in a fierce fight with the resolute bird, which they estimated would measure eight feet across the extended wings. The eagle would soar quickly upward as at first until it reached the desired range, when it would turn upon them with great fierceness, thumping with its wings and striking with its talons at their very faces. Finally, securing a number of good-sized cobble-stones, they advanced again upon the eaglet, and were at once attacked by the parent. But they used their stone artillery with vigor, and succeeded in getting the eaglet to their buggy, leaving its gallant defender still unconquered and soaring in the air with a slightly injured wing. Before the War of the Rebellion, Niagara was a favorite resort of that winged scavenger, the crow, and, at times, they were very numerous. But after the first year of the war they entirely disappeared. Snuffing the battle from afar, they turned instinctively to the South, and did not re-appear among us until several years after the war had ended. Large numbers of ducks formerly went over the Falls, but not for the reason generally assigned, namely, that they cannot rise out of the rapids. It is true that they cannot rise from the water while heading up-stream. When they wish to do so, they turn down the current, and sail out without difficulty. No sound and living duck ever went over the precipice by daylight. Dark and especially foggy nights are most fatal to them. In the month of September, 1841, four hundred ducks were picked up below the Falls, that had gone over in the fog of the previous night. In two instances, dogs have been sent over the Falls and have survived the plunge. In 1858 a bull-terrier was thrown into the rapids, also near the middle of the bridge. In less than an hour he came up the ferry-stairs, very wet and not at all gay.