Their approach disturbed
the monarch's meditations. He first spread one wing, and then the
other; balanced himself for a moment; and then, quitting his perch
with dignified composure, wheeled slowly over their heads. Dolph
snatched up a gun, and sent a whistling ball after him, that cut some
of the feathers from his wing; the report of the gun leaped sharply
from rock to rock, and awakened a thousand echoes; but the monarch of
the air sailed calmly on, ascending higher and higher, and wheeling
widely as he ascended, soaring up the green bosom of the woody
mountain, until he disappeared over the brow of a beetling precipice.
Dolph felt in a manner rebuked by this proud tranquillity, and almost
reproached himself for having so wantonly insulted this majestic bird.
Heer Antony told him, laughing, to remember that he was not yet out of
the territories of the lord of the Dunderberg; and an old Indian shook
his head, and observed that there was bad luck in killing an
eagle--the hunter, on the contrary, should always leave him a portion
of his spoils.
Nothing, however, occurred to molest them on their voyage. They passed
pleasantly through magnificent and lonely scenes, until they came to
where Pollopol's Island lay, like a floating bower, at the extremity
of the highlands.
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