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Various

"American Big Game in Its Haunts"

The mountains being covered with fresh snow in the morning, there
was nothing to do but eat and sleep.
The bear meat improved with age, and hours of boiling rid it of its
bitter flavor. The whole cabin--and its occupants--smelled of bear's
grease. The thermometer registered 30.
On May 2, as the wind was unsuitable for bear hunting, we made a
photographing trip to a cliff across the bay, where two bald-headed
eagles had built their nest. Merriam and I had a very interesting stalk
with a camera. We landed near the cliff, and the eagles, becoming
disturbed, flew away. The men were sent out in the boat, and we kept in
hiding until signalled that the birds had quieted down. We gained the
top of the cliff, a mere knife edge in places, where we worked our way
along, straddling the rock. The birds had selected a splendid place,
straight up from the water, where they had built their nest firmly into
a bush on the side of the cliff.
I stalked the eagle within about 75 feet and caught her with the camera,
as she was leaving her nest.


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