"Mine," began Francois, "was a bird-adventure, as you all see--though
what kind of birds I've shot I can't tell. One of them's a hawk, I'm
sure; but it's a _white_ hawk, and that I never saw before. The rest, I
suppose, are _white_ partridges. Everything appears to be white here.
What are they, Luce?"
"You are right about this first," answered Lucien, taking up one of the
birds which Francois had brought back with him, and which was white all
but a few spots of clove-brown upon its back. "This is a hawk, as you
may tell, by its appearance, or rather I should say a `falcon,' for you
must know there is a difference."
"What difference?" demanded Francois, with some eagerness of manner.
"Why the principal difference is the formation of their beaks or bills.
The bills of the true falcons are stronger, and have a notch in the
lower mandible answering to a tooth in the upper one. Their nostrils,
too, are differently formed. But another point of distinction is found
in their habits. Both feed on warm-blooded animals, and neither will
eat carrion. In this respect the hawks and falcons are alike. Both
take their prey upon the wing; but herein lies the difference. The
hawks capture it by skimming along horizontally or obliquely, and
picking it up as they pass; whereas the true falcons `pounce' down upon
it from above, and in a line nearly vertical."
"Then this must be a true falcon," interrupted Francois, "for I saw the
gentleman do that very thing; and beautifully he did it, too."
"It is a falcon," continued Lucien; "and of the many species of hawks
which inhabit North America--over twenty in all--it is one of the
boldest and handsomest. I don't wonder you never saw it before; for it
is truly a bird of the Northern regions, and does not come so far south
as the territory of the United States, much less into Louisiana. It is
found in North Europe, Greenland, and Iceland, and has been seen as far
north on both continents as human beings have travelled. It is known by
the name of `jerfalcon,' or `gyrfalcon,' but its zoological name is
_Falco Islandicus_."
"The Indians here," interposed Norman, "call it by a name that means
`winter bird,' or `winterer'--I suppose, because it is one of the few
that stay in these parts all the year round, and is therefore often
noticed by them in winter time. The traders sometimes call it the
`speckled partridge-hawk,' for there are some of them more spotted than
this one is."
"True," said Lucien; "the young ones are nearly of a brown colour, and
they first become spotted or mottled after a year or two. They are
several years old before they get the white plumage, and very few
individuals are seen of a pure white all over, though there are some
without a spot.
"Yes," continued the naturalist, "it is the jerfalcon; and those other
birds which you call `white partridges,' are the _very_ creatures upon
which it preys. So _you_ have killed both the tyrant and his victims.
They are not partridges though, but grouse--that species known as
`willow-grouse' (_Tetrao saliceti_)."
And as Lucien said this, he began to handle the birds, which were of a
beautiful white all over, with the exception of the tail-feathers.
These last were pitch-black.
"Ho!" exclaimed Lucien, in some surprise, "you have two kinds here!
Were they all together when you shot them?"
"No," answered Francois; "one I shot along with the hawk out in the open
ground. All the others I killed upon a tree in a piece of woods that I
fell in with. There's no difference between them that I can see."
"But I can," said Lucien, "although I acknowledge they all look very
much alike. Both are feathered to the toes--both have the black
feathers in the tail--and the bills of both are black; but if you
observe closely, this kind--the willow-grouse--has the bill much
stronger and less flattened. Besides, it is a larger bird than the
other, which is the `rock-grouse' (_Tetrao rupestris_). Both are
sometimes, though erroneously, called `ptarmigan;' but they are not the
true ptarmigan (_Tetrao mutus_)--such as exist in North Europe--though
these last are also to be met with in the Northern parts of America.
The ptarmigan are somewhat larger than either of these kinds, but in
other respects differ but little from them.
"The habits of the `rock' and `willow' grouse are very similar. They
are both birds of the snowy regions, and are found as far north as has
been explored. The willow-grouse in winter keep more among the trees,
and are oftener met with in wooded countries; whereas the others like
best to live in the open ground, and, from your statement, it appears
you found each kind in its favourite haunt."
"Just so," said Francois. "After leaving here, I kept down the valley,
and was just crossing an open piece of high ground, when I espied the
white hawk, or falcon as you call it, hovering in the air as I'd often
seen hawks do. Well, I stopped and hid behind a rock, thinking I might
have a chance to put a few drops into him. All at once he appeared to
stand still in the air, and, then closing his wings, shot down like an
arrow. Just then I heard a loud `_whur-r-r_,' and up started a whole
covey of white partridges--grouse, I should say--the same as this you
call the `rock-grouse.' I saw that the hawk had missed the whole of
them, and I marked them as they flew off. They pitched about a hundred
yards or so, and then went plunge under the snow--every one of them
making a hole for itself just like where one had poked their foot in! I
guess, boys, this looked funny enough. I thought I would be sure to get
a shot at some of these grouse as they came out again; so I walked
straight up to the holes they had made, and stood waiting. I still saw
the hawk hovering in the air, about an hundred yards ahead of me.
"I was considering whether I ought to go farther on, and tramp the birds
out of the snow; for I believed, of course, they were still under the
place where the holes were. All at once I noticed a movement on the
crust of the snow right under where the hawk was flying, and then that
individual shot down to the spot, and disappeared under the snow! At
the same instant, the crust broke in several places, and up came the
grouse one after another, and whirred off out of sight, without giving
me any sort of a chance. The hawk, however, had not come up yet; and I
ran forward, determined to take him as soon as he should make his
appearance. When I had got within shooting distance, up he fluttered to
the surface, and--what do you think?--he had one of the grouse
struggling in his claws! I let him have the right barrel, and both he
and grousy were knocked dead as a couple of door-nails!
"I thought I might fall in with the others again; and kept on in the
direction they had taken, which brought me at last to a piece of
woodland consisting of birches and willow-trees. As I was walking along
the edge of this, I noticed one of the willows, at some distance off,
covered with great white things, that at first I took for flakes of
snow; but then I thought it curious that none of the other trees had the
same upon them. As I came a little nearer, I noticed one of the things
moving, and then I saw they were birds, and very like the same I had
just seen, and was then in search of. So I crept in among the trees;
and, after some dodging, got within beautiful shooting distance, and
gave them both barrels. There, you see the result!"
Here Francois triumphantly pointed to the pile of birds, which in all,
with the jerfalcon, counted four brace and a half.
One was the rock-grouse, which the falcon had itself killed, and the
others were willow-grouse, as Lucien had stated. Francois now remained
silent, while Basil related his day's adventure.