By Joseph Goodlin
…
He Soars
He soars with such power! He soars with such pride! His eyes never fail him. He swoops with great speed! He is the King, the King of the air! His head is as white as snow, yea, pure white snow! I shall honour him till the day I die, yea, till the day I die! Though he killest my sheep, never shalt I kill him!
“I don’t know where he is,” said Ivan Stralling.
He eyed the two poachers in front of him. Why are they doing this to me? Thought Ivan. The bald eagle is a wild bird. Ivan had reached his cabin and had walked into an ambush of two poachers who had probably been hired by fishermen to kill Ivan’s “pet” Bald Eagle. “You’re lying, Stralling,” said the “boss” poacher.
“B-b Boss I-I think he’s hiding something,” the second poacher clearly feared “Boss”.
“I don’t care what you think, kid!” sneered Boss.
“I-I…”
“Quiet!”
Suddenly a huge Bald Eagle swooped down on top of them. The second poacher (who was startled at the bird’s sudden appearance) started screaming and jumping in circles. Boss swung his Colt .45 pistol from its original position (pointing at Ivan) to the sky. But just before he fired Ivan jumped on him and caused him to miss pitifully. “NOOO,” shouted Boss. Ivan laughed at him and said, “HO! HO! HO! My granny shoots better than you!” The angry poacher tried to shoot Ivan, but Ivan twisted the gun from his hand and held it on him. Ivan called the police while holding the gun on the poachers. The Policeman came a few minutes later and picked up the two sulking poachers.
…
He Flies
I am Cedric of Massachusetts. Yea, I see him! He is crowned in white. His flight is swift and full of power and might! Yea mine own two eyes see him now! I tremble with delight! His body and wings are the colour of earth, yea, rich, brown earth! I liveth by the river, where I see him retrieve fish from her depths. He flies with great speed! When he spies you; he is very brave, yea, very brave! He may fly toward you to fight. Mostly he flies away.
Ivan looked out his window. He watched the Bald Eagle flying outside his window. He thought about yesterday’s adventure. “I saved that very eagle,” thought Ivan. He also thought of his ancestor Cedric. Cedric adored eagles. “When did Cedric die? 1725?” That’s where Ivan got his love for eagles. He still had the 1925 remaking of Cedric’s original poems. Ivan saw the bird had landed in his yard. The eagle saw Ivan and spread his magnificent wings and flew to Ivan’s porch. Ivan smiled and got some salmon from his refrigerator and put on his thick leather glove. He opened the door and the eagle hopped on his glove and ate the fish. He loved this bird. He knew the Bald Eagle loved him too.
…
He Kills
I am in awe when I see his majesty. I love him!
Ivan looked out the window of his riverside house. The same spot were Cedric built his house. He watched the Bald Eagle swoop over the river. This was the eagle’s 6th time. He watched the eagle finally come up with a fish. “Those eaglets keep him busy,” thought Ivan. Ivan watched the eagle’s mate steal a fish from an osprey. Ivan knelt and prayed, “Thank you, Lord, for eagles and for all animals, because without them humans would be unable to live. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
…
He Dies
Yea it is sad, indeed. He flies no more.
Mourn I do now. He flies no more.
Selfish poachers killed him. He flies no more.
I found his body on the ground. He flies no more.
Ivan was walking beside the lake when the terror unfolded. A nearby fisherman saw the eagle Ivan was watching. The eagle swooped to a fish he spotted near the fisherman. The man grabbed a hidden shotgun and fired twice before the eagle could react. Tears stung Ivan’s eyes as he fell to his knees. He watched the eagle fall until he hit the water. “No! No! No!” Ivan yelled. The fisherman, startled by Ivan’s outburst, sped away in his boat. “Who would want to kill such a beautiful animal?” Ivan moaned. The scene replayed in his mind. That night Ivan knew must get over it. “From now on I’ll do all I can to stop this mindless poaching. I’ll become a forest ranger.”
This is Joseph, the author of The Eagle: How He Soars. I want to tell you a little bit about that story. I actually wrote this story in 2012 when I was 9. But, this year I found it in my archives and decided to edit it. I almost completely rewrote it. I wrote it because the bald eagle is my favorite bird. Before that I started a novella, The Cougar: King of the Wild Frontier which is to be released. Since the cougar is my favorite mammal I decided to write something about my favorite bird. I hope you enjoy it!
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