THE HEN HAWK.
While grandpa and Fred were talking, they suddenly heard a loud cry of
distress from the hen in the coop, quickly followed by the cluck, cluck,
with which she summoned her chickens under her wings.
Presently Mr. and Mrs. Robin seemed to partake of the fright. She
uttered continual sharp cries, while her husband flew with quick,
violent motions over his nest.
Fred hastened toward the barn, and saw a large hawk sailing in the air
above them. He ran to call his father, who was, fortunately, near at
hand.
"Bring my gun," said Mr. Symmes, taking down a flask of powder from a
high shelf in the shed.
"Now we'll soon bring him down," he continued, stationing himself at
the back door. He took his aim. Annie turned pale, and pressed her hands
over her ears. Then came the report; and, true enough, the great, brown
bird fell to the ground just in front of the hen-coop at which it had
been aiming.
"That was a good shot," remarked grandpa, walking slowly to the place.
"I seldom miss fire," said Mr. Symmes, with a look of honest pride. "My
hand is steady, and the gun is a faithful old fellow, that has served
honorably in war, and has helped me to get rid of many an enemy."
"O, father, see how it flutters! It is not quite dead."
"Bring it here, child, and I'll put an end to its pain. We should always
avoid keeping any living being in misery." He wrung the hawk's neck,
though Annie screamed, and then began to cry.
"Why, sis, do you want our chickens and birdies all carried off?" asked
Fred. "This is a bad bird, and would have stolen them away if father had
not killed it. Hark! there are the robins now singing us a song to thank
us for protecting them."
They all stopped for a moment to listen, as the beautiful songsters
warbled forth their sweet strains, filling the air with their rich
melody.
"Do you suppose they really know what we have done for them?" inquired
the boy.
"Certainly I do," answered grandpa, "They made known their wants as well
as they were able, and in language that it was easy to understand. The
little nestlings knew at once, from the cries of their parents, that
there was danger near, and joined in the notes of distress. Now, while
their father and mother sit quietly upon the bough singing their thanks,
they feel sure the danger is past, and that no accident will happen to
them."
"I'm sure the chickies knew," said Annie. "They ran in to their mother
as quick as they could, and cuddled together under her wings."
"They knew just as well," replied her father, "and understood her
language as quick as you would if your mother saw a great lion in the
yard, and called you, 'Annie, come here! run quick into the house,
or you will be killed!'?]"
In the mean time, Fred had been examining the dead hawk, and now
exclaimed, "O, what a strong bird this is! I don't wonder smaller ones
are afraid of it."
"It is of the same family as the eagle and falcon," said grandpa,
"though, as you see, its beak is very short, and bends gradually from
its base. It is naturally a ferocious bird, but is capable of strong
affection for those who treat it with kindness. In England, hawks were
formerly much prized, as they were trained to catch game of various
sorts, and sometimes became so tame that they would not only come when
called, but they would bring home to their owner whatever they took in
their flight.
"A hawk which was once owned by a gentleman in England, escaped from its
owner, after accompanying him on a hunting expedition, and flew hundreds
of miles in the short space of about six hours. It alighted on a vessel
bound for America from Europe, which was nearly midway on her passage,
and was recognized by a silver ring on its leg, with the owner's name
engraved upon it."
"Did it remain on board the vessel?" inquired Fred, earnestly.
"For some days it did, my dear, and then it took its flight."
"Do you suppose it could find its way back to its master?" asked Annie.
"O, yes, as easily as the robins in the tree will find their way back to
our farm when spring comes again," said grandpa with a smile.
"The chickens are all out again now," said the little girl, running to
the coop.
"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed her brother; "they have forgotten all about
their fright by this time. Grandpa, what would you do with this dead
hawk?"
"I would dig a hole in the ground and bury it, my dear."