E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Roger Frank,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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GOLDEN EAGLE [Photo by C. Reid]
Dear Sir Robert,
I have but one regret in offering to youand to some small section of lovers of wild lifethis bundle of stories, a regret that for the mostpart they end with the violent death of thebird or beast whose life-story is set out. Oneof my friendliest and most charming critics,whom I would not willingly hurt or offend,told me lately that she will read no moreof my stories of bird and beast unless Ipromise to make them end happily. I quotedOmar the Tentmaker in extenuation, andpointed out that if we could shatter the sorryscheme of things and remould it “nearer tothe hearts desire” the lion and the lambwould lie down side by side and the big gameshooter would confine his skill to the target.Then I added that for the time being thebattle is to the strong, and the explosive bulletand the hammerless ejector are to the sportsman,but from the depth of a twelve yearknowledge of the world and a deep love of thelife that is entrusted to our care, she turnedaway declaring in great distress that I am“very horrid”. Certainly I was greatlyabashed, even though I could not wish herto read this book.
You, no unworthy son of one who was amighty hunter before the Lord, know thatthese stories are true in substance if not inform, and that such cruelty as is set outin its proper place is of the kind that manhas dealt in some way or another to thebrute creation since the dim far-off dayswhen first he learned to fashion hatchet andspear and knife. His excuse has passed, butthe old-time savagery lingers. I have doneno more than set down what I have seen,though I have gifted bird and beast with anintelligence they are not allowed to possess.You at least will grant that there is somefoundation for my lapse from the grace inwhich serious naturalists thrive even to thesecond and third edition of volumes thatbecome works of reference to those who refuseto admit imagination to their councils. Youhave seen much of the strange camaraderiethat exists in the African forest and on theheather-clad hills of your native land, and youknow that the philosophy of the orthodoxprofessor has not yet fashioned even in dreamsall the wonders of life in the heavens aboveand on the earth beneath and in the watersunder the e