Continuing our way in search of the rabbit we saw a very curious sight.  In the midst of a number of loose stones someone had set a trap, but had evidently neglected it.  This neglect would have been hard on any animals that might have been taken, as their probable fate would be death by starvation.  But what was probable did not happen in this case.  When we reached the trap we found in it a fine golden eagle, alive and in splendid condition.  Around him lay the remains—­the well-picked bones—­of some twenty rabbits and as many grouse which his mate had brought, and so saved him from a lingering death.

The captive eagle, with its great beak dripping with the rabbit’s blood, flashed its bright round eyes and ruffled its feathers as Jerry picked up a large stone and prepared to dash it at the bird’s head.  Quick as might be, I arrested his uplifted arm.

“O, Jerry!” I pleaded; “dinna kill him, man.  We have not so many eagles as that.  Give the bird his liberty.”

Jerry dropped the stone, and looked at me with a kindly smile.

“Well, Ericson,” he said, “you’re maybe right.  A dead eagle isna much good after all.  We’ll let the bird fly.”

Whilst Jerry attracted the attention of the eagle forward I went behind, and, taking my knife from my pocket, I was proceeding to open the jaws of the trap, when Jerry exclaimed, “Look out! look out aft!” and before I understood his warning, I was thrown bodily forward by a tremendous blow on my back.

The first eagle had watched our proceedings while on the wing, and had flown to her mate’s assistance, alighting on my back, at the same time burying her talons in my woollen muffler.  In my fall, however, I liberated the captive eagle, which hopped about lamely for a while, and then giving a kind of guttural chuckle, flapped his wide wings, and rose gracefully into the air.

Jerry rushed forward to rescue me from the pecking beak of my assailant.  Fortunately the female bird, in her eagerness to follow her mate, did not show fight when Jerry belaboured her with his stick, but disentangled her claws from my muffler; at the same time, giving me some severe scratches.  Then she took to flight in pursuit of her companion, and soon the pair of birds were seen sailing side by side far up among the leaden clouds.

I was not seriously injured, and, so far from regretting that we had not been victorious in the encounter, we were pleased at being the means of restoring the captive bird to its noble mate.

Chapter XXX.  An Orcadian Voyage.

Shortly after midnight, when I lay comfortably in my bunk, I was awakened by hearing the anchor scraping and thumping against the schooner’s bow; then there was a hauling of ropes on deck and a creaking of timbers as the sails were run up, and I fell to sleep again before we had got out beyond the shelter of the coast.