scend to the nest, armed only with his shepherd's crook. In another moment
he had disappeared over the steep side, and was lost to sight, justas the mist
suddenly rolled down, and shut out the rest of the hill from view.

How long he lay there Willie could never decide, but it seemed to him
hours that he clung anxiously, waiting to hear some sound that would tell what
had become of David. He began to wish he had not over-persuaded the brave
lad to undertake such atask. He dared not shout, for fear the two eagles
might hasten back to protect their little ones. He crept to the edge and looked
for David, but the mist prevented him from seeing what was below.

He could bear the suspense no longer; with caution he lowered himself
down toa spot some way beneath, and shouted.

Imagine his terror if you can when the shrill, peculiar cry of the king of _
birds greeted his ear, and, the mist clearing at the same moment, he saw that
David was making violent efforts to climb toward him, but that an overhang-
ing rock prevented him from doing so.

‘Help, help!” cried Will, half frantic at the dangerous position of his
friend, not realizing how impossible it was that in so lonely a spot such a cry
should receive an answer. Buttwo shepherds happened to be near, and came
hurrying to the rescue.

They saw ata glance poor David’s plight, and fortunately having with
them a short coil of rope, they hastily descended to rescue him.

It was only just in time, for the eagles were becoming furious, and as the
men lowered the rope to the boy and he slipped his foot into the running loop,
_ they darted toward him, tearing his shirt and lacerating his flesh with their
beaks and talons, and screaming loudly. The men both shouted, and while
one pelted the birds with pieces of rock and stones, the other, with Will’s help,
drew our hero to the ledge, bleeding but triumphant, a tiny eaglet clasped in
one arm.

After much risk, they succeeded in getting out of their perilous position,
but David was too: weak from loss of blood to walk, so they hoisted him on
their shoulders, and carried him down Ben Clunie and right into Clunie Castle,
for Will would have it'so.

Of course the laird was very angry at the foolish risk the lads had run in
attempting so daring a feat without more assistance. But his eyes sparkled
with pleasure as he listened to Will’s account of David's courage.

As for that brave lad, he soon recovered from his wounds, and was as happy
as before. But to Willie the adventure taught a lesson he never forgot—how
nearly a life had been lost simply to gratify his selfish whim.

—EpitTH A. FINDLAY.