Hawks in the Field
Half an hour or so before the time appointed for starting to the field,
the falconer will begin to hood up those hawks which are to be taken
out. Each of them, if in proper order, will jump from the block or the
perch to his fist as soon as he extends it within reach. For some of
them it will be a very simple matter to slip on a hood; and without
further ado they will be placed on the cadge and the leash made fast
to it. Others which have only lately completed their training, or
which have not yet quite mastered a dislike to the hood, may be first
indulged by the production of a tiring, and before or just after they
begin to pull at it may be hooded with such dexterity as the operator
can boast of. A good hooder is also a quick hooder; but nothing is more
likely to make a man bungle his business than to set about it in a
hurry at the last moment, just before it is time to start.
The cadge, if a cadge is to be taken out, being placed in a sheltered
spot, with its occupants ranged along it and safely attached, all the
requisite paraphernalia to be carried must be properly stowed away
either in some vehicle or in the falconer's pouches or pockets. For
every person who is to take any active part in the day's proceedings,
it will be well to have a lure which he can easily carry. Each such man
should also reserve at least one pocket, unless he wears a pouch, in
which he can put a spare hood and a spare leash. When it is expected
that a live lure may be required, the bird which is to serve the
purpose should be accommodated with comfortable quarters in which he
cannot be shaken or knocked about, or be cramped or short of air. The
man who carries the cadge must be instructed or reminded as to his
duties--how to set down the cadge under the lee of a rick or fence
or other shelter, and, having done so, to keep his eyes open, and
act as a marker. Some code of signals may generally be agreed upon
for informing the cadge man from a distance when he is to go forward
with his burden and in what direction. If the party is to include any
people who have never been out hawking before, they should be warned
as to running or riding in, and requested to stand still whenever a
rook or other quarry makes towards them as a shelter from the stoop.
The falconer himself should carry a spare leash and hood or two, some
string which can be unwound quickly without kinking, and a supply of
small coins wherewith to reward farm-labourers or other rustics who, in
case of a lost hawk, may give useful information. He should also have
a field-block or two, or at least some pegs for pegging down a hawk by
her leash, and a certain provision of food for feeding up hawks which
may have failed to kill anything, or which are not to be allowed to
regale themselves upon the quarry which they may take.
If the place where the hawks are to be flown is close at hand, and
there are not more hawks to be taken out than there are men to carry
them, a cadge may sometimes be dispensed with altogether, and the
light blocks which have been described as field-blocks can be brought
instead, taking care that there are enough of them for each hawk
(except the one which is for the time being about to be flown) to be
supplied with one when it is desired to put her down. In some cases
the hawk or hawks may even be taken out bareheaded, as for instance
when three merlins are carried by three men, each of whom knows how to
manage his part of the day's business. But in most cases where more
than two hawks have to be flown, it will be found best to hood up all
except the one which is first to be thrown off. For a hawk which is
bareheaded on the fist or on a field-block will bate very much if she
sees a flight is going on in which she cannot take part. Moreover, the
man who is carrying an unhooded hawk cannot follow a flight freely in
which another hawk is engaged, and, after assisting at the start, finds
himself obliged to see hawk and quarry sail away out of sight, while
compelled to stand almost still, rendering no service even as a marker,
and left in the lurch, with a toilsome walk or ride before him, which
very possibly he may not accomplish before another flight starts, in
which he will have even less part or lot.
In every kind of hawking the marshalling of the field is a most
important matter; so much so that success or failure sometimes depends
upon the manner in which the quarry has been walked up or approached.
For instance, in the pursuit of rooks, gulls, and larks, the chances
of a kill are comparatively remote if the quarry is down-wind when
the hawk is thrown off. On the other hand, in game-hawking, the
pursuer has a much better chance if the first stoop is made down-wind.
Consequently, in beating for grouse or partridges, the falconer will
start proceedings from the windward edge of his country, and keep
the game, as far as he can, always down-wind of his line of beaters;
whereas in the other cases the hawking party will begin to leeward,
and proceed as nearly as possible with their faces to the wind. In
other words, a hawk flown from the fist should be flown up-wind at her
quarry, and one which waits on should start down-wind at it. So well
established is this principle that when a rook is espied on the ground
to leeward, a whole party of mounted men will sometimes make a circuit
of a mile in length, in order to make sure of getting the wind of him
and giving the falcon a fair chance. When there is anything of a wind,
it is advisable for a lark-hawker, after making a beat to windward, to
return on his own tracks, with what is called a dead beat, and start
afresh on another march parallel to the first, so as to avoid putting
up a lark while walking in the wrong direction, and being reduced to
the alternative of either letting the merlin go on a sort of fool's
errand, or disappointing and vexing her by holding on to the jesses
when she jumps off.
The posting of markers is a matter requiring some skill and care, even
in the case where the falconer is well acquainted with his country.
It will be found of the greatest possible advantage to have plenty of
markers, especially where, as is often the case in game-hawking, all
or most of the men are unmounted. Before beginning to try the ground,
the falconer should detach men or boys to post themselves down-wind
in positions where they can command the most extensive view, and, as
it were, guard the approaches to any covert for which the quarry is
likely to make. Often it can be predicted with tolerable certainty
which plantation a rook or lark will choose as his place of refuge,
or at which thick hedge or piece of tall roots or of standing crops
a partridge will try to put in. Often, of course, there are two or
more spinnies or sheltering-places, either of which may attract the
fugitive. If these places are within sight of any marker with a good
pair of eyes, he will be able to tell the first comer-up whether the
flight ended in either of them, or went on in another direction.
Without such information much valuable time may be wasted in searching
a covert where neither hawk nor quarry is to be found. Markers are more
useful down-wind than up. For in all long flights where the quarry
takes the air, he is pretty sure, when hard pressed, to turn in that
direction, whilst in game-hawking it is always the object of the
beaters to drive the birds down-wind. Any marker, upon seeing a kill or
a put-in, should note as accurately as he can the exact spot, and then
stand still at his post until he can communicate with one of the field.
In open country all markers should remain at a distance of about half a
mile from the man carrying the hawk to be flown, and should shift their
position rapidly to another vantage-ground whenever the space between
them and the hawking party is much diminished or increased.
In rook-hawking the lookers-on must be mounted; and their horses ought
either to be very sure-footed or else well acquainted with the ground
on which the flights take place, which is often covered with ant-hills,
and in places bored by rabbit burrows. If the rider is to see anything
of the longest and best flights, his horse must be able to step out
in a gallop of a mile or so. In game- and lark-hawking it is less
necessary, and often impossible, for the men to be mounted; but in
these cases also it is of very great advantage for at least one man to
ride, so that he may follow a very long flight with a better chance of
keeping the hawk in view. The horseman has a double advantage when the
country is uneven. He can go faster, and he can also from his place
in the saddle see farther over the brow of a hill or undulation. But
ground which undulates in long ridges and valleys is to be mistrusted
by falconers. When a flight, commenced in one valley, goes over the
ridge which separates it from the next, it is impossible, unless there
is a marker on that ridge, to know where it may have ended. Here the
falconer, for once in his life, may hope that the ground on the other
side is not too open, and that there may be some small covert not far
off in which the quarry is pretty sure to have stopped if he got so
far. When a hawk goes out of sight over a ridge, the men following on
horseback should begin to spread out like a fan, and ride on, keeping
a good look-out for anything that may indicate the direction which the
flight has taken.
When a flight ends successfully, every person in the field should halt
at a hundred yards or so from the place where the hawk is on the ground
with the quarry in her foot. The falconer, or whoever it was that threw
off the hawk, will use his own judgment as to when he will make in and
take her up, and must go alone about this business, which, as we have
seen, is sometimes delicate enough. Although it is an unpardonable
mistake to make in too quickly, so as to alarm the hawk, yet it is not
wise to defer too long the business of taking up. For it is always
possible that a stray dog may rush in, or some other accident occur
which may frighten the hawk just at the time when you most wish to save
her from any such alarm.
If for any reason you wish your hawk to eat her quarry where she has
killed, attach the leash to her jesses and to a peg in the ground, or
to a field-block, leaving a man to watch her and keep a sharp look-out
against intruders. Although in the very open country, where alone the
long-winged hawks ought to be flown, there are not many interlopers in
the shape of stray dogs or tourists, yet it is wonderful how, with a
little bad luck at his heels, the falconer may be annoyed by unexpected
intruders. I well remember a valuable hawk being lost on Salisbury
Plain, not far from Stonehenge, by the appearance on the scene of an
object which one would hardly expect to see there, three miles from
the nearest village. The hawk, which was a bit shy to take up, was
discussing a well-earned meal upon a heap of stones by the side of a
cart-road, when along this road came a nurse-maid with a gaudy-hooded
perambulator. She got past the hawk, but not without exciting a large
share of its attention. Unfortunately, however, she caught sight of the
falconers hurrying up, and then of the hawk, and with that feeling of
curiosity which seems to be strongly developed in the genus nurse-maid,
turned the perambulator round, and began wheeling it straight towards
the hawk. This was altogether too much for the latter. Convinced that
some deadly mischief lurked in the strange machine approaching, she
picked up the remains of her quarry, and, taking it off with her, could
not be afterwards approached.
Only when the falconer is seen to have secured the victorious hawk,
and attached the leash to her jesses, is it permitted to the field
to go up. When time is precious, and there are a lot of hawks to be
flown, the line of march may proceed, leaving the work of taking up the
successful hawk to him who flew her; and when the next quarry is put
up, the next hawk in order may be thrown off by the man who carries
her. Otherwise it is best to get one flight altogether done with before
another is started. When the quarry has beaten off his pursuers and got
away, a lure or lures must be put in requisition; and one man, if he
can be spared, should remain, with lure in hand, near the place where
the hawk, if out of sight, was last seen. The others will follow on,
more or less quickly, in the direction she seemed to take. All trained
hawks have a certain inclination to return after an unsuccessful chase
towards the place from which they started in pursuit; and the man to
whom the easy duty of standing still is allotted generally has as good
a chance of taking up such a hawk as any one of those who have walked
or ridden forward.
When the quarry puts in, and the place is known or shrewdly guessed
at, generally all the field may participate more or less directly in
the work of getting him out. In magpie- and blackbird-hawking, this
routing out of the quarry is one of the most animated parts of the
day's proceedings. But everything must be done under the control and
direction of the head falconer. An amateur may do more harm than good,
nay, may spoil the whole job and disgust the hawk, by blundering on and
driving out the half-vanquished fugitive in a wrong direction, or at an
ill-chosen moment. The falconer himself learns by long experience many
of the little ways of birds that have put in--on which side of a fence
they will most likely be found; whether inside a hedge or in the long
grass or weeds outside it; which way his head is likely to be turned;
and whether he may be expected to jump up readily at a man's first
appearance, or to sit still and allow himself to be taken up in the
hand or kicked up with the foot. After a hard flight, in which he was
getting much the worst of it, the latter is a likely event; whereas if
the hawk was making a poor show, and did not press him hard, he will be
more ready to start again with fresh hopes of escape.
Some judgment is sometimes required to decide whether in any particular
case it is advisable to drive out quarry which has put in, or to pick
him up with the hand, if he will allow this, or to leave him alone
altogether. This last alternative is not so unlikely to be preferable
as a beginner might imagine. Suppose, for instance, that a very good
rook, after a hard flight with a young falcon, has managed to get to
a small tree which stands by itself, at a distance of a quarter of a
mile or less from a wood or big plantation. The hawk waits on, but
rather wide. By sending a boy up into the tree, you think you may most
likely get the rook out. Will you do so, or leave him alone, and take
down the falcon to the lure? If you rout the rook out, it is about ten
to one that he will get safe to the big covert. The hawk, if at all
wide when he makes his attempt, will hardly have time in so short a
distance to make even one stoop, and far less a fatal one. You will
have disappointed her, and perhaps disgusted her greatly with the
job of flying at rooks, never the most attractive of quarry. Many
a good falconer will prefer to call down the hawk, and, leaving the
rook to congratulate himself on his escape, reserve her for a fresh
start at a quarry which she will have a fairer chance of catching. In
lark-hawking, unless the country is extremely open, cases of this kind
often present themselves.
On the other hand, if there is a really good prospect of a successful
flight when the fugitive is routed out, it is, of course, very
encouraging to the hawk to put him up. Every effort should be made to
do this when the hawk is waiting on in a good position, so that, having
killed, she may be pleased with the whole performance, including the
men's share in it, and may perhaps imagine that the reason the quarry
was got out so conveniently for her was because she waited on well.
Hawks, whether waiting on in the air or at perch in a good place, soon
get to know very well what the men are about when hunting up a bird
that has put in. In the case of merlins, which naturally stand by on
the ground while a lark is being searched for, it is almost always
better to take them up on the fist as soon as it is determined to pick
up or try to capture the quarry. Otherwise the lark, having his wits
about him, may take advantage of a moment when the hawk is looking the
wrong way, and slip off unseen by her. Moreover, even if she sees him
go, she will not start from the ground with so good a chance as from
the elevation, small though it is, of your fist. As for sparrow-hawks
and goshawks, they may, when a quarry puts in, either be called to
the hand or allowed to wait close by at the standpoint which they
themselves chose. Many of them prefer the latter plan whenever there is
a tree handy, as from it they get a better view and more impetus for
their stoop. Lanners, when flown at partridges in an enclosed country,
may also be encouraged to go to perch in this way.
There are some occasions when it is quite permissible to capture
with the hand a bird which has put in. Suppose that you are carrying
a first-rate merlin which is short of work and for which you are
particularly anxious to find hard flights and plenty of them. Now,
when a lark gets up which is either so young or so deep in the moult
that he cannot live long in the air before such a merlin, you are in
presence of that very eventuality which you most wished to avoid.
There is the prospect of a quick and easy kill, which is about the
least likely thing in the world to encourage a hawk to a severe flight
afterwards. The best that you can hope for is that the lark, seeing
his inferiority, as he is sure to do,--for all wild birds are very good
judges of such a matter,--will flop down in front of the hawk--or just
behind her, if the first stoop has been avoided--in some place where
there is just enough covert for the hawk to be unable to espy and jump
upon him. Then, when you come up, the lark, which knows as well as you
do what fate awaits him if he gets up again, will be very likely indeed
to let you seize him in your hand. Will you, then, let that bad lark
go before that good merlin? Not if you have any wish to keep up or
improve the excellence of the latter. If you have in the background an
inferior hawk to enter, or to encourage after an unsuccessful flight,
you may start her at the captured lark, taking great care that she does
not know that he has ever been captured. Or you may consign him to a
safe place where he will not be damaged, and save him for a time when
a bagged lark may be of invaluable service to you as a live lure for a
lost hawk. Or what you will probably like best will be to let him go
when no merlin is by. Similar cases will occur with other quarry and
other hawks; but they are pretty frequent in the case of larks, which
at moulting-time differ more than any other birds in their pluck and
powers of flying.
When a hawk is new to the work of taking wild quarry she should be
allowed to kill it and to break in and eat at least some part of
it. But when she is _au fait_ at the business the humane man will
often be glad if he can save the victim's life, and this he will not
unfrequently be able to do. Unless the quarry has been struck on the
head or has a wing broken, no real damage is at all likely to have
been done except in cases where the particular hawk has a specially
hard stoop of her own, and is fond of cutting down her quarry instead
of binding to it. For herons, gulls, rooks, and larks, after they have
been taken, it is often pretty easy for the falconer, if he is up in
reasonable time, to substitute the pelt of another bird which has been
killed before. As I write this page I hear the singing of a lark in
a cage before me which was captured by Jubilee after a long ringing
flight, and saved from him while he was recovering his wind.
When it is found necessary to get bagged larks for entering a hobby--I
have sometimes used one for entering merlins--they may be obtained in
this way. Stick two wattled hurdles into the ground three inches apart
and side by side in the middle of a very big field where there are
larks. Stuff up the space between the two hurdles with loose straw, all
except about a foot at each end. Then take out a merlin and beat the
field, driving towards the hurdles. When a lark gets up, if the hawk
presses him hard, he will go to the shelter which is so inviting. Then
taking down your merlin, and giving her a tiring to amuse her, go and
pick out the lark from the straw near one end of the hurdles.
I am aware that some writers--and those of the highest authority--have
recommended the use of bagged larks after ringing flights when the
quarry has put in and cannot quickly be got out; and that the plan is
advocated especially in the case of merlins flown at larks. I venture
to think, however, that it is a plan which must be resorted to with
very great discretion, and only in extreme cases. The idea, of course,
is that the bagged bird, let loose at the place where the wild one
was seen to put in, is mistaken for the latter by the hawk, which
consequently supposes when she has killed that her victim is the one
at which she first started. But does the hawk ever make this mistake?
A lark, for instance, which has flown a ringing flight is necessarily
a good one, whereas the bagged one--unless by a rare accident you have
picked one up just before--is necessarily a poor one and generally a
bad one; especially if he has been dragged about in a bag or box for an
hour or more. Will the merlin believe that this third- or fourth-rate
performer is the same bird which a few minutes ago took her up after
him into the clouds? Would you yourself, if you had chased a pickpocket
or a welsher for half a mile, mistake his identity five minutes
afterwards? And the difference between a good and a bad lark is much
greater than the difference between a good and a bad pickpocket!
There are several other objections to letting bagged quarry go as
personating the real. For instance, a bad lark is generally taken in
the air, and taken easily; and with a lark so taken merlins almost
always fly a good way before coming down with them to the ground.
There is then the risk of not being able to find them; and at anyrate
the hawk has learnt how easy it is to carry her quarry,--a species of
knowledge which it is a main object of the falconer not to let her
acquire. Of course a light creance may be attached to the bagged bird,
and the carrying prevented, but this aggravates the dissimilarity
between the sham quarry and the one which was put in. On the whole,
considering the difficulties of carrying bagged quarry about, and
producing them at the right moment in the right place, I doubt if,
in the moulting season at all events, it is wise to attempt the
stratagem at all. A hawk which is fast enough and clever enough to
make a ringing quarry put in is generally able, in a good country, to
take him when he has done so; and, except in a good country, ringing
flights should not be attempted. When the moult is over, if any merlins
continue to persevere at larks it is possible that the device might
be adopted with advantage. The bagged lark would then be given, not
with any idea that it will be seriously mistaken for the real quarry,
but as a _bonne bouche_ simply, to show the hawk that her prolonged
exertions in bringing the quarry down have not been unprofitable to
her. At this period the very best hawks, even when flown in casts, will
put in ringing quarry in places where they cannot be found, and, if
repeatedly so disappointed, will give up that sort of flight; whereas
if, when they have beaten the lark in the air, and thus played their
fair share in the game, the man can occasionally make a show of playing
his part by producing a live quarry in the spot where the real quarry
ought to be found, the hawks may accept the situation, though without
being really deceived, and persevere. Unfortunately, in these cases how
seldom it is that anyone can arrive at the spot in time to thus gratify
the hawks! They will, after their intended victim has put in, take
their stand close to the place, peeping and prying about, and perhaps
trying to "walk it up"; and may there remain for a few minutes. Five
minutes is as much as you can at all reasonably expect. How is the man,
half a mile behind where the hawks came down, to find and get to them
in five minutes? If he catches sight of them at all, it will often be
by mere good luck. More often than not his first intimation as to where
the flight ended is to be gained by noticing from which direction the
hawk came to her lure. For as soon as the hawk engaged in a flight goes
out of sight, either in the sky or over a ridge, or by reason merely of
the distance to which she has gone, the lure should be produced, and
kept in evidence as long as the search is continued.
In finding a hawk after a long flight it is useful to bear in mind
a few hints which experience has taught. Of course in the case of
the bigger hawks the bell is an invaluable guide. The hawker's ear
should be always ready to catch the faintest sound of this well-known
tell-tale. But merlins seldom or never wear bells in the field. It
will be well, therefore, to give some brief directions as to finding
these little hawks. These will be useful also in searching for others
when not found by the bell. The person who was nearest to the hawk
when she went out of sight will get on as fast as he can to the place
over which he last saw her in the air, and may with advantage give
notice to others following behind by holding up a hand or making any
other signal that has been agreed upon. He will then, if there is a
marker within hail, shout or signal a demand for information. If none
is forthcoming, he will note with his eye the coverts or places of
refuge on ahead of him, and consider which of them was most probably
the destination of the quarry. The most likely is certainly the one
which lies in a straight line with the course which the two birds were
taking; and the next most likely is the nearest in an oblique direction
on the down-wind side. If the place which seems most likely should be
a plantation, copse, or spinny, let him then, by tracing an imaginary
straight line over the intervening ground, decide which is the nearest
part of this covert--irrespective of wind--to the spot whereon he
stands. In this spot, and no other, the quarry will probably have put
in. So constant is this choice by a lark of the very nearest bush in
any thicket, that, after searching it thoroughly without success, I
should be inclined to leave that plantation altogether and try some
other place of shelter. If the hawk has killed, she will be either
in the covert or somewhere not far off, where she may have taken her
victim to devour him in the open, free from the danger of unwelcome
intruders, who in any thick place might come up unawares. Such a spot
will generally be tolerably conspicuous. A mound of earth, a heap of
stones, a ridge of raised turf or ant-hill is often chosen. When the
ground is wet, merlins and hobbies will sometimes carry their quarry a
long way merely in the hope of finding a dry place whereon to deplume
and devour it. I have known a merlin carry nearly half a mile on a very
hot day in order to get under the shade of a distant tree.
Many minutes will elapse between the time when the quarry has been
taken and the moment when the hawk has completely finished her repast.
Accordingly, the search may be prolonged for at least half an hour
before the chance of success is given up and the hawk pronounced "lost"
for the time being. Some hawks when in high condition will not break
in to their quarry or even plume it before their master or some other
person comes up, but, after killing it, stand expectant, looking round
about them, and apparently in a sort of brown study, forgetful that
such a thing as hunger exists. Some are even so little eager to begin
upon the excellent meal which is before them, that they will jump from
it to the fist as soon as it is within reach. I have known a merlin
fly her best at a mounting lark, take it after a hard flight, and
descend with it to a heap of stones. Lighting a cigar, and sitting down
beside a neighbouring rick to wait for her to break in, I have seen her
presently go off unconcernedly to another resting-place with nothing in
her feet, and, walking up to the heap of stones, have found the lark
lying there, dead and unplucked. The hawk must have been flying almost
uniquely out of love for the sport, and not with a view to satisfying
any hunger which she felt at the time; nor is this the only time that I
have known such a thing occur.
As a rule, however, trained hawks in high fettle are very far from
preferring a journey to the fist or the lure to devoting their
attention to wild quarry. Much more often the difficulty is to persuade
them that for the moment they must return to their place on the hand
in order that they may be provided with what they are hankering
after--another flight. Almost all hawks which are in the habit of
constantly killing and being fed up upon wild birds develop a passion
for sport, and will not easily, when once they have been thrown off,
abandon the idea that they are to kill something before they come back.
It is for this reason that I have advocated the frequent practice of
flying merlins to the lure and sparrow-hawks to the fist, not only when
the hawk is not to be used in the field, but when she is. Few things
are more vexatious than the delay which occurs when a hawk, however
good in other respects, is bad at the lure, and keeps the whole field
waiting until it is her good pleasure to come down. Such performers as
Queen and Sis, and the famous rook-hawk Bois-le-Duc, which fly for a
week or more, killing daily without any miss, are in danger of quite
forgetting what a lure is like, unless they are exercised to it for
mere practice from time to time. Here, again, the question of dieting
will be found to be of much importance. A hawk may be ready enough to
fly wild quarry long before she is ready to come to the lure. An extra
hour of fasting on the one hand, or an extra ounce of food on the
other, may make all the difference in the alacrity of the hawk when
required to come down.
In spite of all the falconer's care, there will be times when a hawk
stands obstinately at perch, refusing contemptuously to come, or
perhaps even to look, at the dead lure. On such occasions, if time
is valuable, it may sometimes be expedient to resort to the live
lure. This, however, should always be regarded as a last resource. If
reserved for special occasions it will never fail to bring down the
most disobedient offender, but if live lures are commonly used they
lose part of their efficacy, and are apt to become almost as much
despised as the ordinary dead ones. Of course when live lures are
used pains will be taken to make the process as little disagreeable
as possible to the creature whose life is risked. When a pigeon is
employed, as it almost always is for any of the big hawks, a pair of
soft and broad jesses should be attached to its legs, and the ends of
those to a strong but fine cord or creance, or a noose of soft cord
may be passed round each leg by means of the double-ring knot shown in
Figs. 26, 27.
When the pigeon (or lark or other bird) is thrown up it should be
allowed to fly a short distance, then gently stopped by the creance and
allowed to alight on the ground. As the hawk comes at it, it can be
jerked away with a steady pull, and, as the hawk throws up, it can be
secured and hidden, while a dead pigeon of the same colour is thrown
down in its place. No great amount of dexterity is required to execute
this little manoeuvre. The hawk will be taken up on the dead bird, and
the live one liberated or returned to its dovecot none the worse for
its perilous adventure. It is only when the falconer bungles his part
of the business that the live lure is struck and either killed or hurt.
For sparrow-hawks or merlins, when they decline to come down, and stand
waiting for the chance of another flight, another device may sometimes
be employed with a view to saving time. There has been an unsuccessful
flight, and the little hawk goes to perch upon a rick, neglectful of
the proffered fist or lure. She came out, as she has made up her mind,
to taste blood, and blood she means to have, if she has to wait for
it till sundown. As you cannot afford to wait her good pleasure till
then, you may settle the matter by a sort of compromise. Leave her to
herself upon the rick, and walk the surrounding country until you put
up the quarry of which she is so much in want. By driving the fields
or hedges constantly towards her you may beat a considerable extent of
ground. If you draw it blank go on a little farther. As the hawk sees
you beginning to beat that farther country, ten to one she will come
on after you and take up her position on a fresh resting-place nearer
the scene of your operations. You may go on thus sometimes for quite
a long walk, the hawk not, indeed, standing on your fist in orthodox
style, but keeping in a place where she can start at anything you put
up with a fair chance of overtaking it. As soon as anything so put up
has been taken, you pick up your rebellious hawk in the same way as if
she had flown from the fist, and, if you are wise, you do not give her
a big crop. In the case of merlins there is another plan: you may fly
another hawk while the first is sulking or fooling away her time on her
self-selected perch. The latter will indubitably join in when you throw
off the hawk on your fist, and you will have a double flight, after
which, if it ends in a kill, you will be able to take up both hawks
easily enough.
In theory, after every unsuccessful flight the hawk ought to observe
certain fixed rules of conduct. Peregrines and almost all other
long-winged hawks ought first to throw up over the place where the
quarry has put in, and then wait on a while for the falconer to come
up. Short-winged hawks, and often lanners, should take perch as near as
they conveniently can to the quarry's place of refuge; and merlins will
get still nearer, very often waiting on the ground within a few feet
of the hidden lark. From these various situations they ought, if in
proper order, to be ready to come whenever the falconer wishes--to the
fist if they are short-winged, to the lure if long-winged. It is also,
alas! possible that they may have failed through being outflown--beaten
fairly in the air. Directly the falconer sees, by the spreading of the
hawk's wings, that this sad event has occurred, he will begin to swing
his lure, and in such case my lady ought--and generally will--at once
rally to headquarters. The young falconer should endeavour from the
first to keep his charges in such condition that they will always come
to the lure. If, at the same time, they are keen enough to do this
and high-fed enough to do themselves justice in a hard flight, they
may be called really well trained. Here lies the real difficulty of
hawking--to strike the balance justly between too servile obedience and
too disdainful independence. Every day, and with every hawk, whether
eyess or passager, the falconer is confronted with it, only in the case
of passagers it is naturally more obvious. Wild-caught hawks are only
brought by degrees, and with a good deal of trouble, to really like
the dead lure, whereas to most eyesses their first notion of working
for their living is connected with the slight trouble of flying either
to the lure or to the hack board. Yet of the two it is much more
essentially necessary that the passage hawk should come down quickly
after failing in a flight, for if she does not, she will hang about for
a more or less limited time near the spot where she lost her intended
prey. And every additional minute that she stays out alone, especially
if out of her master's sight, she is being reminded more and more
of her old life at large. Then, if even she does not go soaring or
prowling about in the deliberate search for quarry, she may espy some
passing wood-pigeon or other too tempting bird, and be off in pursuit
before any of the hawking party are near enough to keep her in sight.
And a passage hawk which has flown and fed herself on her own account
is, of course, much less likely to be recovered than an eyess, to
which real liberty is a blessing hitherto unknown. With the latter the
balance of danger lies often on the side of making them too fond of the
lure.
The falconer should have with him in the field a pencil and small
notebook, or at the least a card, upon which he can jot down a brief
note or record of each flight, so that on his return home he can enter
in his quarry-book a summary of the day's sport. The performances
of each hawk should also be recorded in this book, as it is only by
reference to this authentic volume, correctly kept day after day, that
it can be known and remembered how she has acquitted herself. On the
chance that it may be useful as a specimen, I give here an extract from
the quarry-book which I keep, and which has been found to record pretty
fully and in an exceedingly small space the chief points of interest in
every day's proceedings. The first column gives the month and the name
of each hawk, the second and following columns give the numbers of the
days of the month and the scores made by each hawk. The units mean that
a flight was successful, the zeros that it was not. When a fraction,
such as 1/2, occurs it signifies that the hawk flew double, in company
with another, and that the flight ended in a kill. The sign 0/0 stands
for a double flight in which the quarry escaped. L means that a hawk
was lost or left out, and C that she was recovered. At the foot may be
a short note as to the day's weather.
+------------+-------+-----------+-----------+---------------+
| September. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
+------------+-------+-----------+-----------+---------------+
| Eva | ... | 1 1 1 | 0 1/2 1 | 1 0 1 1 1 |
| | | | | |
| May | ... | 1 1 1 | 1/2 0 1 | 0 3/4 0 1 1 |
| | | | | |
| Ruy Lopez | 0 L | ... | C 1 | 0 0 1/4 1 |
+------------+-------+-----------+-----------+---------------+
| Wind | Gale. | 1/2 Gale. | High. | Moderate. |
+------------+-------+-----------+-----------+---------------+
It is convenient also, and not at all troublesome, to keep a daily
record of the flights and kills up to date. Such a score will read as
follows:--
+-----+----------------+----------------+----------------+-----------------+
|1883.| Eva. | May. | Ruy Lopez. | Total. |
+-----+----------------+--------+-------+--------+-------+--------+--------+
|Sept.|Flights.| Kills.|Flights.| Kills.|Flights.| Kills.|Flights.| Kills. |
+-----+--------+-------+--------+-------+--------+-------+--------+--------+
| 1 | 43 | 34 | 51 | 33 | 40 | 28 | 134 | 95 |
| | | | | | | | | |
| 2 | 46 | 37 | 54 | 36 | 40 | 28 | 140 | 101 |
| | | | | | | | | |
| 3 | 48-1/2 | 38-1/2| 56-1/2 | 37-1/2| 41 | 29 | 146 | 105 |
| | | | | | | | | |
| 4 | 53-1/2 | 42-1/2| 61 | 39-1/2| 44-1/2 | 30-1/2| 159 | 112-1/2|
+-----+--------+-------+--------+-------+--------+-------+--------+--------+
Or the double flights may be recorded separately, which is perhaps a
better plan. In the general score I mark 1/2 to each hawk which has
done any work in a double flight, although in the individual score for
the day the fraction set opposite her name may be a larger or smaller
one, according as she has done a larger or smaller proportion of the
work.
In the same book which contains such tables it is well to write down
some account of any flights which seem to deserve particular notice, as
well as notes as to the behaviour of the hawks, their state of health
and condition, and any physic which has been administered to them. In
fact the book may be made not only a bald record of mere results, but
a running commentary upon your sport as it proceeds, to which you may
refer not only for pleasant memories in the past, but for hints and
warnings for the future.
In lark-hawking the character of the flights is so different, as has
already been explained, that a record of them is hardly complete unless
it contains some further indications than appear in the above tables.
I add, therefore, a specimen of a score kept in rather fuller form,
which, although it may seem rather elaborate in print, is simple and
easy enough to keep when in manuscript. Here the lines reserved for
each hawk must be somewhat larger than in the other table, so that
each unit standing on a line with the hawk's name may have a letter
or indication of some kind placed immediately above or below it. The
method of keeping such a record may be best illustrated by explaining
it in detail.
+-------------+---------------+-----------+-----------+
| 1888. Sept. | 1 | 2 | 3 |
+-------------+---------------+-----------+-----------+
| | | | |
| | G R R | M M G R | M M R RR |
| Pearl | 1 0 1 | 0/0 1 1 1 | 1 1 0 1 |
| | p | p a p | h a p p |
| | | | |
| | M M G M | M M R | |
| Ruby | 3/4 0 1 1 | 0/0 1 ? L | (1) C |
| | a p a pp | a | |
| | | | |
| | M R M R M | G G R | R |
| Diamond | 1/4 1 0 0 1 | 1 1 0 | 1 |
| | p p | a | |
| | | | |
+-------------+---------------+-----------+-----------+
| Wind | Fresh. | Strong. | Moderate. |
+-------------+---------------+-----------+-----------+
| Weather | Cloudy. | Showery. | Hot. |
+-------------+---------------+-----------+-----------+
Here, taking the first hawk's score, it appears that on the afternoon
of September 1 she took one ground lark (G) (see Chapter IX.).
Secondly, that she flew a ringing lark (R), which she beat in the air,
forcing it to put in (p), and that it could not be found or got up
again, and therefore does not count as a kill, but as a miss. Thirdly,
that she flew and killed another ringer, and that after these two hard
flights she was not flown again, but fed up. The next day, the wind
being strong, she began with a double flight at a mounting lark, in
which Ruby was her companion, and they bested the quarry, which put in,
but could not be found; then flew a mounting lark (M), and took it in
the air (a); and then a ground lark, which put in, but was routed up
and taken. Finally, having killed a ringer, she was fed up and excused
further flying. On September 3 the weather conditions were better, and
in the afternoon Pearl flew a mounting lark, which put in, and was
taken up by the hand (h). Had it been a good ringer probably it would
have been kicked up instead, on the chance of a good flight; and if
killed, the hawk might have been fed up. As, however, it was only a
"mounter," it was thought best to keep the hawk for the chance of a
ringer later on. The second lark, however, was also a mounter, and the
hawk, having taken it in the air, was flown again Then came a ringer,
which was well flown, and bested in the air, but escaped by putting in.
At length there was a successful flight at a ringer, which, however,
was not killed until it had been routed out from the shelter to which
it had put in, and afforded a second flight. The double RR over the
record of this item in the score shows that at the second start as well
as the first the flight was a ringing one.
Ruby's score begins on the morning of September 1 with a double flight
at a mounting lark, in which he did most of the work, and took the
quarry in the air. He is therefore credited with 3/4 of the lark, to
mark his superiority, whereas only 1/4 is scored to Diamond, who was
his companion in the flight. In the afternoon he puts in a mounter,
which is lost, kills a ground lark, and then puts in another mounter,
which is routed out, but puts in again, and is only taken when driven
out a second time from his hiding-place. Having stuck to this lark
well, and accurately marked the places where he put in, the little
jack is excused from further flying. Next day he begins with the
unsuccessful flight which he flew with Pearl. Then he takes a mounter
in the air, and at the next attempt goes up so far after a first-rate
ringer that no one can keep him in sight. As this lark was obviously
making for a big plantation towards which the flight went, and as the
hawk, though usually obedient to the lure, did not come to it or appear
again, it is almost certain that he must have killed. The fairest
way in such cases is to mark the flight by a (?), and not count it
either as a kill or a miss in the general score. The L shows that Ruby
was left out, and the (1) on the following morning shows that it was
ascertained in some way that while roaming about on his own account he
killed (and ate) a lark. The C indicates his recovery late in the day;
and the manner of his recapture, of course, is referred to in the notes.
Diamond's first item is the 1/4 credited to him for the part he played
in the double flight with Ruby. He goes on by killing a ringer in
the morning; and for his pains is rewarded with a good half of it,
being then reserved for the last of the afternoon's flights, when the
half-lark may have ceased to trouble his digestive organs. In the
evening he puts in first a mounter and then a ringer, and then having
with some difficulty and after a long flight killed a good mounter, is
fed up just before it gets dark. On the morrow he falls in with two
ground larks in succession, and kills them both. Hitherto, ever since
the double flight with Ruby, in which he was outpaced, he has been
doing well. Though not a fast hawk he has persevered and bested all
his larks in the air, though he has put them in so far off that it was
difficult to find them. But now he is to disgrace himself by showing
the white feather. He starts at a good ringer, but, finding it too fast
for him, comes back humbly to the lure. The little (a), which is a mark
of honour when seen under a kill, is a terrible blemish to a score when
found under a "duck's egg"--showing that not the quarry but the hawk
has been beaten in the air. After this sad exhibition Diamond is fed
up, and examined to see whether by some mistake he has perchance been
allowed to get thin. If he has, there is an excuse for his poltroonery.
Anyhow he will be well fed now, and if he does not fly better to-morrow
physicking may be advisable. A medical council must be held over his
case. On the next day, however, he re-establishes his character.
Lighting at the first trial upon a ringer, he sticks to it like a man,
puts it in, and then takes it cleverly enough. Of course after this
success, following upon the fiasco of yesterday, he is at once fed up.
Peeping a little behind the scenes we may, it is true, suspect that
the ringer, though quite properly marked so in the score-sheet, would
not have figured as such if Pearl had had to deal with him instead of
Diamond. He would have tried to take the air, certainly, and mounted
as if intending to go up in circles. But Pearl would have been up to
him before he completed the first ring, and from that moment, keeping
the upper hand of him, she would have given him trouble enough to shift
from her stoops without nursing any such ambition as to fly right away
from her.
A score-sheet thus kept gives at a glance an excellent idea of the
performances of the hawks referred to. As their several scores are
usually kept on the same page in successive lines, a comparison between
them can be readily made at any time; and if a period of two or three
weeks is taken, the best average made in the time will usually belong
to the best hawk. If only a week or less is brought into the account,
it may easily be that a very good hawk by a run of bad luck scores
fewer kills and makes a lower average than a more moderate performer.
The true test of merit is the ringing flights; and if these alone
are considered, the result of an analysis will infallibly settle the
question which is the better hawk. Thus in the score last above given,
there is no difficulty in perceiving that Pearl, who killed three
ringers out of five, and put in the other two, was a much better hawk
during the short period under notice than Diamond, who killed two out
of four and failed once to put his ringer in. The mere number of quarry
killed in a season is not a conclusive test of merit; for it is more
creditable to a hawk to kill one ringer than half a dozen ground larks.
The greatest number of larks I have killed in one season with any hawk
in single flights is 106. But Jubilee, who accomplished this feat, was
certainly not so good as his sister, Queen, who killed 95 in the same
time. Nor was the latter--I think--as good as Eva, who killed only
about 65.
The same method of scoring might be, with some adaptation, used for
rook-hawks, and possibly for game-hawks. The short-winged varieties are
usually flown at such a number of different quarry that another system
would have to be employed. But in all cases the quarry-book should be
a sort of diary in which may be traced the history of each hawk as she
improved from time to time or fell off in merit. The less experience
the falconer has the fuller he should make his notes. Both in making
them and in referring to them questions will arise about which he is in
doubt; and practice alone, or timely hints from a master in the art,
will solve the difficulties. Any falconer who has kept diaries for any
long period will find that at the end of it he has altered several of
the methods which he practised at the beginning. It requires some time
and trouble, no doubt, to write up the notes every day. But, as it has
been before observed, no one can expect without a good deal of toil to
become a successful falconer.
It will be seen by a look at the score-sheet, as well as by perusing
any falconer's notes, that first-rate results are arrived at partly
by the excellence of the hawks flown and partly by the activity and
diligence of the falconer and his assistants. It is no use for a falcon
to bring down her ringing rook from the clouds, or a merlin her lark
from out of sight in the sky, if when the quarry has put in there is no
man forthcoming to drive it out again. The sparrow-hawk will make but
a poor show unless she is backed up energetically by an excited field
of beaters; and tiercels will soon give up flying magpies with any zest
if they find that their friends down below are slack or incompetent in
playing their part of the game. You think yourself entitled to grumble
at your hawk, and perhaps call her ugly names, if just at the moment
you call upon her she does not fly her best. Do you not think that she
also is aggrieved if you at the same time, chosen as it is by you, do
not give her the necessary amount of help? Incapacity or laziness on
the part of a man or a dog provokes the contempt and disgust of a
trained hawk, who is often a much better critic in such matters than
the ignorant may suppose. Be careful, therefore, if you want to retain
the respect of your hawk, not to give her just cause to complain of
you; not to be slow when you should be quick, or hasty when caution or
deliberation is needed; not to seem inattentive to her fair and just
requirements. And above all, not to commit in her presence anything
which she knows is a gross mistake--in short, not to make a fool either
of yourself or her.