Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2 ROVING. JACK, THE PIRATE. HUNTER. 3 SN RE a a Hal clings to the rock, his gaze fascinated by the | fearful scene. The thrashing, flapping pennons, the swiftly plied beak, the flashing of the knife, the dreadful, unequal struggle so long protracted, the screaming of the eagle, the audible pantirg of the struggling boy— * DOWN !—dowwzn ! Over and over, rolling, waning smaller and smaller, straight down the almost perpendicular surface of the cliff, Jack and his feathered foe go battling together. They reach a projecting boulder of the rock. They bound over, and disappear. Hal sickens, and almost relinquishes his grip upon the rock-bine. He creeps up to the top of the cliff. He raises himself on his trembling legs, and peers fearfully down. The projection of the cliff conceals a considerable span of the beach immediately below the beetling precipice. Neither Jack nor the eagle are visible. Hal listens with breathless intentness. The muffled, sullen, ceaseless roar of the surf, the shrill distant quail of the shags and sea-gulls dipping their swerving white wings on the foamy crests of the surging green billows, the throb-throb- throbbing of his own excited heart—else all— ominous silence. Hal makes an attempt to shout his comrade’s name ; but his breath freezes on his quivering lips, and his voice faints in his s*velling throat. For a moment. he stands as if petrified, then recovering himself, he dashes wildly off toa rugged pathway, which, some distance from the spot, winds its rugged dangerous way down to the shingly strand, At last he reaches the beach, and crashing over the brawling shingle, he hurries madly to the point where he thinks Jack must have fallen. Hie can scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, There lies the eagle, her huge pointed wings out- spread, her dark brown, finely-shaded plumage ruffled, beads of blood on her strong, hooked beak, the knife buried to the haft in her breast, dead. As for Jack, there sits he, his bloody brow swathed with his neck-cloth, coolly engaged in fixing the long, white-tipped tail feathers of his yanquished foe in his cap as trophies of his victory, JSHAPTER II. OUR HERO’S EARLY HISTORY, FAL threw himself down beside his companion, without making any remark, in fact he was so wonder-struck, and so exhausted with the intense excitement through which he had passed during the course of the last few moments, that he could not summon speech. Jack was flushed, his arched lips were parted and his breath came short and thick from his panting breast ; but he controlled his bodily infirmities, and sat with a calm clear light shining in his merry brown eyes; his five, boyish, per:ect features beam- ing with a grin of triumph. “Did you manage to bring off any of the eaglets ?” asked Jack. “Yes, two; the others fell out of the handker- chief. Look! here they are! . Cheep! cheep! Ugly little monsicrs, shall I wring their necks ?” “No; don’t Hal., Perhaps we might rear one or both of. them. I should like a tame, eagle; that would be something like a pet.” SSS renner ON GIOOKSmG “ What a noble bird the old one was!” said Hal, | lifting the royal creature in his hands. “What a | size she is !. What a beak she has! What a stretch of wing! Is it an osprey?” ‘No; it’s the white-tailed sea-eagle, They are very rare. Who would imagine, now, that these hideous little puff-balls, with their weak, sprawliny yellow claws, and tender beaks, would ever grow to such a size and strencth ; but, there, it’s the same all through nature. Fancy Timour the Tartar, or Billy the Conqueror, or any other of those fire-eating, murdering, rayaging destroyers, sitting an, their nurse’s knees, teeny-tiny, flabby babbies squalling for pap.” “And imperial Czsar getting spanked and put in the corner for being naughty.” ‘*Oh ! crikey ! But talking of ‘spanking ’ reminds me of what a swishing I shall nab from our old Dominie for getting my head broke!” and Jack burst into.a long merry laugh. ‘‘ Oh, poor mother !” “ What do you mean by ‘ poor mother?’” “Why, Hal, my mother seems to think that there’s no cure for a wounded head but a swinged starn, Don’t you remember when our school had such a game on board the sheer hulk that lics astrand of the Sandy Point, when we played at ‘cutting out by the board,’ and I was captain of the man-o’-war ?” “Oh! yes, wasn’tthat a glorious lark? You blew up the ship rather than strike your flag.” ‘* And singed off my eye-brows, and set my hair on fire. Mother laid a complaint against me at school next morning, and I was horsed and swished without pity. I didn’t grumble; it sarved me right, ye know, I wish, I do wish, Hal, that I weren't such a mischief-loving, danger-hunting scape-grace. My wild tricks vex poor mother sadly.” “ Tndeed, Jack, you should be more careful... It beats cock-fighting ! You seem to have no sense of fear or danger ; you risk your life a dozen ‘Simes a day.” * No, I don't. I know what ’mabout. Where's the fun of swimming in shallow water, or walking on level ground? Any fool can do that; besides, when I’m a man—fancy being a man, Hal—I should like to be daring°and adventurous. If I'm buta chick now, I should like to grow up—an eagle |” “To get your throat cut like this poor bird !. Jack, you must always remember that your mother isa widow, that you are her only and her darling son ; and Violet, your fosrer-sister, you should think of her. What would become of them both, if you flung away your life in some foolhardy venture ?’ ‘*When I don’t think of them I am a heartless young villain !” cried Jack, with fervour; “Tama heedless, worthless fool, for what is the good of me? I can do nothing but swim and run and climb——”’ * And kill eagles.” “Yet I am fond of my books; I love to proze over old histories, learn strange languages, and puzzle out hard sums. And I like the old Dominie, too, though he’s rather too fond of what he calls ‘the ‘ good old rule laid down by Solomon,’ and the taste of the birch is more pungent than pleasant, But when the sea breeze wafts in at the open window, and the surf leaps up in the glittering sun- shine, I must be off, nothing can bind me! I play the wag, and get into scrapes; am rated and swished by the old Dominie, and, what’s worse than all, little Violet looks at me with her grave blue eyes, shakes her bright, golden ringlets, and tells me that she is ashaned of herself for loving such a wild, bad boy.. Ob, blow it all, Hal! I must be more steady, But, I say, I wonder if papa ad va