group of towering leadwood trees.
A pair of martial eagles had chosen the tallest leadwood as their mating
ground. The female was a beautiful young bird but the male was past his
prime. They had begun constructing their nest on a high fork, but the
work was interrupted by the intrusion of a lone male eagle, a big young
bird, fierce and proud and acquisitive.
David had noticed him lurking about the borders of the territory,
carefully avoiding overlying the airspace claimed by the breeding pair,
choosing a perch on the hills overlooking the plain and gathering his
confidence for the confrontation he was so clearly planning. The
impending conflict had its particular fascination for David and his
sympathy was with the older bird as he made his warlike show, screeching
defiance from his perch upon the high branches of the leadwood or
weaving his patrols along his borders, turning on his great wings always
within the limits of that which he claimed as his own.
David had decided to walk up to the plain that day, in order to choose a
site for the photographic blind he planned to erect overlooking the nest
site, and also in curiosity as to the outcome of this primeval clash
between the two males.
It seemed more than chance that he had chosen the day when the crisis
was reached.
David and Debra came up through the gap in the hills and paused to sit
on an outcrop of rock overlooking the plain, while they regained their
breath. The battlefield was spread below them.
The old bird was at the nest, a dark hunched shape with white breast and
head set low on the powerful shoulders. David looked for the invader,
sweeping the crests of the hills with his binoculars, but there was no
sign of him. He dropped the binoculars to his chest and he and Debra
talked quietly for a while.
Then suddenly David's attention was attracted by the behaviour of the
old eagle. He launched suddenly into flight, striking upwards on his
great black pinions, and there was an urgency in the way he bored for
height.
His climb brought him close over their heads, so that David could
clearly see the cruel curve of the beak and the ermine black splashes
that decorated the imperial snow of his breast.
He opened the yellow beak and shrieked a harsh challenge, and David
turned quickly in the old fighter pilot's sweep of sky and cloud. He
saw the cunning of it immediately. The younger bird had chosen his
moment and his attack vector with skill beyond his years. He was
towering in the sun, high and clear, a flagrant trespasser, daring the
old eagle to come up at him and David felt his skin crawl in sympathy as
he watched the defender climb slowly on flogging wings.
Quickly, and a little breathlessly, he described it to Debra and she
reached for his hand, her sympathy with the old bird also.
Tell me! 'she commanded.
The young bird sailed calmly in waiting circles, cocking his head to
watch his adversary's approach.
There he goes! David's voice was taut, as the attacker went wing over
