The suburban citizen., 1900-04-21

pers. But it makes ones heart
ache to see the scars on the little
fellow-great, blue, livid scars that
go to the bone; eight on his face
and scalp, eleven on his right arm
and shoulder, six on the other
arm, three down his back and several
others-oyer thirty in all This lad
of ten is indeed a "battle-scarred vet
ernnp' Some Of the scars he will
carry to his grave-eloquent evidence
of the pluck with which he fought
the big birds of prey
But thanks to the boys courage,
his little sister Lois, in whose defence
he made the fight, has but one light
scar upon her cheek. The two or
three red marks still visible on her
hand and wrist, when contrasted with
his wounds, show plainly how Hale
took the aggressive and bore the brunt
Of the battle. The fight was fought
to the finish. j was nearly an hour
after the eagles drst sweeped down
that a last lucky blow Of the corn
cutter brought the big female to the
ground.
pslA local tazidermist has mounted
this eagle, and no pathological col
lection within my knowl ledge possesses
a more savage specimen Of HaIiaetus
lucocephalus The wings, from tip to
tip, spread fully six feet six inches.
The assault was not wholly unpro-
voked, although the children we're
not to blame for it. BY ill luck, the
birds had just been disturbed by the
fall of one of their young from the
nest in the great elm-tree.
The Robbinses live in a clearing on
the st. Croix River, in eastern Maine.
From their house to the district
school the road is a long one for little
siX.year-old Lois Robbins, and for a
mile and half or more it traverses
the forest, But up to the morning Of
the encounter the child had not missed
q day of the summer term.
Hale had been his sisters trusty
guardian ever since she was large
enough TO toddle out-of.d doors, and
the child needed a protector there,
for it is a rather wild sort Of country,
not wholly free from wild auimals
The boy appears 10 have had no uu.
certain on wayeriug sense Of his
fraternal responsibility. Ever since
he was seven years old he had under.
taken never to come home without
little sister"
That l.orning they set Oft for school
just before eight O'Clock. In addition
to their dinner-pail and two books,
they carried a light woven bushel
basket and an old bush-hook, or corn
cutter, as they called it, because their
father sometimes used it for cutting
rows Of sweet corn in the garden.
The tool consisted of about fifteen
inches cut from the point Of worn
out hay scythe, 80 inserted in a rude
wooden handle that blade and handle
stood at right angles with each other.
Grandma Robbins had asked Hale
to stop on his way home from school
at q swale near the run aud cut
quantity Of thoroughwort and snake
head, two herbs much priced by the
old woman, which were then in flower,
fit for gathering The basket and
cutting-hook were for this purpose,
but the children were told not to take
them to the sohoolhouse, but to leave
them at "Indian Jake's shanty," just
beyond the swale. The Indian is
their nearest neighbor, but at the
time he happened to be away from
home, guiding tourists at the lakes.
The eagles nest was an object of
constant interest to Hale, who often
stopped to watch the birds come and
go from the elm-tree, which stands
on a bluff overlooking the river.
As the children came along that
morning little Lois cspied one Of the
eagles flying heavily to the tree, bear
ing fish IL its talons, taken perhaps
from some fish-hawk on the neighbor-
ing lake. "Oh, look" the child ex.
claimed, dropping the handle of the
basket and pointing with her finger.
"Theres the old eagle going to the
nest, and it's got great thing in its
fectl'
1T is going to feed the young ones"
said Hale. ''Now hark, and you'll
hear 'em screaml"