"Is that a hawk?" Halstead said to me, while he and I were out milking a little before sunrise next morning. "Don't you see it? Sailing round over the colt pasture. Too big for a hawk, isn't it?" A large bird was wheeling slowly above the pasture, moving in lofty circles, on motionless wings. "I'll bet that's an eagle!" Halse cried. "Can't be a hawk. We couldn't see a hawk so far off." Suddenly the bird seemed to pause on wing a moment, then descended through the air and disappeared just over the crest of the ridge. Perhaps it was fancy, but we thought we heard the roar of its wings. "Came down by that high stub!" exclaimed Halstead. "Pounced upon something there! I'll run in and get the shotgun. The folks aren't up yet. We'll go over. Perhaps we can get a shot at it." Addison had gone on an errand to the Corners that morning. Halstead got the gun, and setting down our milk pails, we ran across the field, and so onward to the pasture. "'Twas near that stub," whispered Halse, as we began to see the top of it over the crest of the ridge. We peeped over. Down in the hollow at the foot of the stub was the great bird, flapping and tugging at something--one, two, three animals, lying stretched out on the ground! The sight gave us a sudden shock. "The colts!" exclaimed Halse, forgetting the eagle. "Dead!" The big bird raised its head, then rose into the air with mighty flaps and sailed away. We watched it glide off along the ridge, and saw it alight in an oak, the branches of which bent and swayed beneath its weight. "All dead!" cried Halstead, gazing around. "Isn't that hard!" The eagle had been tearing at their tongues, which protruded as they lay on the ground. There was a strong odor from the carcasses. "Been dead some time," Halse exclaimed. "What killed them?" We examined them attentively. Not the slightest mark, nor wound, could be detected. But a lot of fresh splinters lay at the foot of the pine stub, close by them. "Must have been lightning," I said, glancing up. "That's just what it was! They were struck during that big shower." We went to the house with the unwelcome tidings. At first the folks would scarcely believe our account. Then there were rueful looks. "Ah, those pine stubs ought to have been cut down," exclaimed the Old Squire. "Dangerous things to be left standing in pastures!" Later in the day we took shovels and went to the pasture, with Asa Doane, to bury the dead animals. While this was going on, the eagle came back and sailed about, high overhead. "Leave one carcass above ground," said Asa. "That old chap will light here again. You can shoot him then, or catch him in a trap." So we left Black Hawk unburied, and bringing over an old fox-trap, fastened a large stick of wood to it and set it near. During the day we saw the eagle hovering about the spot, also a great flock of crows, cawing noisily, and next morning when we went over to see if any of them had got into the trap, both trap and stick were gone.