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The Eagles

The Eagles
The mother eagle had tried every means to induce the
little one to leave the nest, but he was afraid.
Suddenly, as if discouraged, she rose well above him.
The little fellow stood on the edge of the nest,
looking down at the plunge he dared not take.
There was a sharp cry from behind,
which made him alert, tense as a watch spring.
The next instant the mother eagle had swooped,
striking the nest at his feet,
sending his support of twigs and himself
with them out into the air together.
He was afloat now, afloat on the blue air in spite of himself,
and flapped lustily for life.
Over him,
under him,
beside him,
hovered the mother on tireless wings,
calling softly that she was there.
But the awful fear of the depths
and the lance tops of the spruces
was upon the little one;
his flapping grew more wild;
he fell faster and faster.
more in fright,
it seemed to me,
than because  he had lost his strength-
he lost his balance and tipped head downward in the air.
It was all over now;
he folded his wings to be dashed in pieces among the trees.
Then like a flash the old mother eagle shot under him,
his despairing feet touched her broad shoulders ,
between her wings.
He righted himself,
rested an instant,
found his head;
then she dropped like a shot from under him,
leaving himself to come down on his own wings.
A handful of feathers,
torn out by his claws,
hovered slowly down after them.
It was all the work of an instant,
before I lost them among the trees far below.
When I spotted them again
the eaglet was in the top of a great pine
and the mother was feeding him,
and then standing there alone in the great wilderness
it flashed through my mind the well known words from
Deuteronomy 32: 11.
“As the eagle stirreth up her nest,
fluttereth over her young,
spreadeth abroad her wings,
taketh them,
beareth them on her wings-
alone did lead him,
and there was no strange god with him.”
Written by Christabel Gladwell
Out of Streams in the Desert vol 2

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