Electra - the story of an eagle

White-tailed eagles on Mull take up most of my time here but we also have a very important population of golden eagles which I also monitor closely. The two species co-exist just as they have done for thousands of years although for a long time, after sea eagles were persecuted to extinction, the golden eagles had the skies, moors and cliffs to themselves. It probably was a shock to their system when the mighty sea eagles re-appeared over the Mull horizon after a 100 years or so. They all seem to have settled down again and generally give each other a wide berth. Any close encounter would probably leave one or both with injuries so why take the risk?

I was just closing the office down for the day when the 'phone rang. In fact the key was in the door and I was locking it. Who's 'phoning now? Probably someone trying to sell something. I'll leave it. Or should I? A little voice inside my head told me to unlock the door and answer it. I'll never know why. A crackly, mobile phone voice drifted in and out: "...hello...visitor...Mull...RSPB?...injured...sea eagle...Glengorm...help..."

I finally managed to get more of the story out of them and where they were calling from. They had been driving along the narrow road from Tobermory to Glengorm in the north of the island when they stopped to watch 'a young sea eagle'. It was flying low and being chased by two ravens. There was a strong wind and as they watched, their thrill at seeing this magnificent bird turned in an instant to horror when they watched helplessly as it flew straight into some high voltage overhead power cables. There was a white flash and a bang, the great bird's wings crumpled and it plummeted to earth and into the heather. The ravens flew on, their mission accomplished. The spectators to this frightening incident watched as the poor eagle floundered about, half running, half stumbling and clearly seriously injured. Finally it sought shelter by a boulder, hunched down in the grass and sat there, panting with exhuastion and weakening by the second. With Bethan my 8 year old daughter who had been determined to help daddy with this exciting task, we raced as fast a landrover legally can to the remote spot. There was the car parked by the side of the road, a few other onlookers had gathered too. We met the people who had 'phoned me and they pointed towards the boulder. Any injured animal or bird is always a sad sight but there's something especially distressing at seeing a bird usually so noble and proud, crouching feebly and unsteadily, the life slowly draining from its normally sharp, bright eyes. But through my binoculars I could immediately see something else - it wasn't a young sea eagle. It was an adult golden eagle! An easy mistake to make in such circumstances with both birds having dark brown feathers. I walked slowly towards the great bird. It was big, a female most likely. She gathered all the remaining strength she could from her tired body and tried to stagger away, her wing trailing through the wet vegetation. I caught her easily and she put up little defense. Immediately my hands were covered in blood, eagle blood. She had a gaping wound on one wing; calming her as best I could and with the help of Bethan and the people watching, I gently put her in a box and took a closer look. It really didn't look good. She had lost alot of blood. There was only one place I could take her - our island bird hospital at 'Wings over Mull'. If only I could get there in time. It was a good 45 minute drive away, maybe more. Wiping her blood from my hands in the bracken, I fumbled for my mobile. No reception. There are masts over there for goodness sake - why no reception? We drove back the way we'd come and suddenly the signal bars shot up. I pulled in to a passing place. Was there any point now in making that call, it was probably too late. I opened the box to check. Her body was still moving, her breathing more laboured. We had to give her a chance. I made the call.

Electra's story continues tomorrow

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer