HAWKS AND FALCONS
“What are we to do with enemies like the eagle?” asked Louis when Uncle
Paul had finished Audubon’s account of that bird’s fierce and
destructive rapacity.
“Destroy them,” was the reply, “destroy them by every possible means,
for we can count on no assistance from other than human helpers. Eagles
are the tyrants of the air, and no other bird dares attack them. The
destruction of their nests is the surest way to put an end to the
ravages they from time to time commit among our flocks. But it is an
enterprise not without danger to make one’s way to the eagle’s aery and
wring the necks of the young birds. The shepherds of the Pyrenees go
about this work in couples, one armed with a double-barreled rifle and
the other with a long pike. At daybreak, when the eagle is already away
hunting, the two nest-destroyers climb to the top of the steep
declivity where the aery is situated. The first man, the one armed with
the rifle, posts himself on the rocky summit to fire at the eagle if it
returns, while the second, his pike fastened to his belt, clambers down
from rock to rock to the aery and removes the eaglets, which are still
too young to offer serious resistance. But at their first cry of
distress the mother hastens to the rescue and hurls herself furiously
at her enemy, who receives her with blows of his pike until his comrade
brings her down with a well-aimed shot. The male, until then soaring
among the clouds, now descends like a thunderbolt and is on the
hunter’s head before the man has time to use his pike. Fortunately a
second bullet from the rifle-man stationed above breaks the bird’s
wing.”
“What if he had missed the bird?” asked Jules.
“Then it would have been all over with his companion. His face torn by
the eagle’s beak and his eyes pecked out, he would have fallen to the
foot of the precipice, a mangled corpse. No, it is hardly a holiday
diversion to go bird-nesting among the haunts of the eagle.”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t care to undertake it,” was Jules’s comment.
“Next to the eagle the goshawk is the largest of our diurnal birds of
prey. It is a magnificent creature about the size of a well-grown
rooster, brown above and white underneath, with numerous little dark
stripes running around the body. The eye is adorned with a white
eyebrow, the beak is blue-black, and the feet are yellow.
“The goshawk is the scourge of pigeon-cotes, for which reason it is
also called the pigeons’ falcon. It selects for itself a lofty perch on
some tall tree and there keeps a watchful eye on the flocks of pigeons
foraging in the fields. Woe betide the luckless one that forgets for a
moment to be on its guard. The bird pounces upon it in oblique flight,
almost skimming the surface of the ground, and in less than no time the
pigeon is seized and carried off to some lonely rock, where the
ravisher plucks its feathers and tears it to pieces while still warm.
If the farmer is not on the lookout the goshawk attacks the poultry and
does great harm. At the mere appearance of the bird’s shadow the
rooster raises a cry of alarm and the little chickens hastily take
refuge under their mother’s wing, while she, her feathers ruffled and
her eyes blazing, sometimes succeeds in frightening off the enemy by
her show of boldness. For lack of pigeons and barnyard fowls the
goshawk hunts young hares, squirrels, and small birds, and in time of
famine it will even eat moles and mice. Wooded mountains are its
favorite abode, and it builds its nest in the tallest oaks and beeches.
Its eggs, four or five in number, are slightly red or bluish and
spotted with brown.
“The common sparrow-hawk is about as large as a magpie. Its plumage
somewhat resembles the goshawk’s, being ashy blue on the back and white
underneath, with brown stripes running cross-wise. The throat and
breast are reddish, and the tail is barred with six or seven dark
bands. The legs and claws are of a beautiful yellow, and are long and
slender.
“The sparrow-hawk is a hunter of pigeons, which it tries to catch off
guard by flying around the pigeon-cote and by watching from the
concealment of some tree-top. The lark, the thrush, and the quail often
fall into its clutches. Its flight is low and oblique like the
goshawk’s, the wings of both being too short and too rounded at the tip
to permit of lofty flight or sudden charges. The young, just out of the
nest and as yet inexperienced in the cunning of the chase, are for a
while trained by the parent birds for the career they are to follow;
and indeed it is no rare occurrence to see the whole family hunting in
company. The sparrow-hawk nests in tall trees and lays four or five
white eggs ornamented with brown spots, which are larger and more
numerous toward the big end of the egg. Both the goshawk and the
sparrow-hawk, when they are attacked by an enemy stronger than
themselves, do as the horned owl does: they lie on their backs and
brandish their claws.
“Of all our diurnal birds of prey, falcons are the most courageous and
the best equipped for flying. As a distinctive characteristic they have
a sharp tooth on each side of the tip of the beak, which itself is very
powerful and curves downward in a notable manner from the very outset.
Their wings are pointed at the tip and when folded they extend beyond
or at least as far as the end of the tail. All falcons soar in their
flight when hunting. To this class belong the common falcon, the hobby,
and the merlin.
“The common falcon, which is as large as a hen, can be recognized by a
sort of mustache or black spot it has on each cheek. Its back is of a
dark ashen hue crossed by narrow stripes of a still deeper shade; the
throat and breast are pure white, with black markings running
lengthwise; the stomach and thighs are light gray tinged with blue and
striped with black; and the tail shows alternate stripes of dingy white
and of black. The beak is blue with a black tip, and the eyes and legs
are a beautiful yellow. But it should be added that the plumage of the
common falcon varies a good deal with age, and not until the bird is
three or four years old does it agree with the description I have just
given.
“The summits of the wildest and loftiest crags are the falcon’s home,
whence it goes forth to hunt pigeons, quails, partridges, chickens, and
ducks. It rises and soars some time in the air, searching for its
victims, and then swoops down upon them like a missile hurled from the
sky. With astonishing boldness it makes its way into the farmer’s
pigeon-cotes and chases the pigeons themselves under the very eyes of
passers-by, in the middle of crowded streets. It will even snatch
partridges from before the hunter’s rifle and from under the
hunting-dog’s nose. Its cry is strong and piercing, and it flies
unwearied at the rate of twenty leagues an hour for hundreds of
leagues; but its walk is jerky and awkward because its hooked claws,
furnished with long and recurved nails, rest insecurely on the ground.
The falcon nests on the southern face of rocky precipices, the nest
itself being clumsily built and holding three or four eggs of a reddish
hue spotted with brown.
“The hobby is smaller than the common falcon. It is brown above and
whitish beneath, with thighs and the lower part of the stomach red. Its
boldness is equaled only by the falcon’s, for it gives chase to larks
and quails even when the hunter is in the act of shooting them, and
dashes into the midst of the fowler’s net to seize the decoy birds. It
perches on tall trees and nests in their branches. Its eggs are whitish
with a few red spots.
“The merlin is the smallest of the diurnal birds of prey, being
scarcely larger than a thrush. It is brown on the back, and whitish
with brown spots underneath. Its nest, which is seldom found in our
part of the country, is built in the hollow of a rock and contains five
or six whitish eggs marbled at the larger end with brown and dingy
green.
“Despite its smallness it is a bold bandit. Little birds are
terror-stricken at the mere sound of the merlin’s wings in their
neighborhood. Even the partridge is not safe from its attacks. It
begins by separating one of the birds from the rest of the covey, and
then, circling about above it in a spiral, which grows smaller and
smaller, it descends until it can reach its victim with its claws and
knocks it down with a blow on the breast.
“Such are the principal diurnal birds of prey that we have to make war
upon without mercy. Up and after these savage bloodsuckers, destroyers
of game, ravagers of poultry-yards and pigeon-cotes! Take your gun,
vigilant farmer, watch for the falcon and the goshawk, and let fire at
those brigands! Destroy their nests, break their eggs, and wring the
necks of their young, if you wish to save your chickens, ducks, and
pigeons.”