which has its eyrie on some inaccessible mountain cliff, from which it descends to carry off lambs and occasionally babies. This is the Eagle of the poets:
He clasps the crag with hooked hands,
Close to the Sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls,
He watches from his mountain walls
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
I need scarcely say that the naturalist classes a good many birds as Eagles which are not quite so grand. But even the least noble of them requires more than Bombay can afford. The handsome Crested Hawk-eagle, so common in the surrounding districts, may visit us sometimes, but I have not seen it. There is one, however, which we may fairly claim, and to my thinking it is one of the very noblest of the race. I mean the Sea Eagle (Haliaetus leucogaster). It is exceedingly common on this west coast, and I know of at least one eyrie not ten miles from Bombay, so the sea on both sides of our island is well within its range. It needs little description to make it recognisable. Though smaller than a vulture, it is larger than any other bird of prey that comes our way. Viewed from below the whole bird is snowy-white, with the exception of a broad black border on the wings and the tail. The back and upper parts of the wings are of a fine slatey-grey colour. But further even than you can make out its colours you may know the Sea Eagle by its flight. When it sails, as it does most majestically, it does not carry its wings horizontally, like a kite or vulture,
