The Art and Practice of Hawking

THE ART AND PRACTICE
OF HAWKING

Falcons and Goshawk Weathering.

THE
ART AND PRACTICE
OF HAWKING

BY

E. B. MICHELL

WITH THREE PHOTOGRAVURES BY G. E. LODGE
AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS

METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET, W. C.
LONDON
1900

TO THE

EARL AND COUNTESS OF WARWICK

AND ALL OTHER LOVERS OF HAWKING
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
BY THE AUTHOR

PREFACE

Notwithstanding the large number of books, both ancient and modern, which have been written on the art of Hawking, it cannot be said that the English-speaking people generally have more than a very vague idea of the character of the sport, or the mode in which it was, and still is, conducted.

Yet, in an experience of Hawking which extends over more than thirty years, the author has found that a great and increasing curiosity, and even a real interest in the subject, prevails, especially amongst sporting men, who are in many notable instances beginning to believe that hawks and their owners have been unduly disparaged, and that there is more to be said in their favour than has for the last two centuries been imagined.

There has not been space in this volume to discuss the much-vexed question how far the use of hawks is compatible with the preservation of game. But it may be said here, without any reservation, that wherever experiments have been actually tried, Hawking has been found not to spoil but to improve the shooting.

The object of the author has been to describe as briefly as was consistent with clearness the birds now chiefly used in the chase, and the manner of training and flying them. His hope is that some of the sportsmen who read these pages may, in spite of the difficulties which they will have to encounter, resolve to give this old and honourable sport a trial.

The use of technical terms has been avoided as far as possible; and those which could not be excluded have been explained in the text. When the reader is puzzled by any word, a reference to the Index will direct him to the page where the meaning of it is given.

CONTENTS

[LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS]

[THE ART AND PRACTICE OF HAWKING]

[CHAPTER I]

History and Literature

IT would be easy to fill a large volume with dissertations on the antiquity of the art which is now called Falconry, and with records of its history in different countries during the many centuries that have elapsed since it was first practised. In a treatise on practical hawking, such as the present, there is no room for such matter; and the omission will be the more readily excused when it is explained that only a short time ago the antiquities of the art, and the literature in which its records are embodied, were most carefully and ably explored by Mr. J. E. Harting, the erudite Secretary of the Linnean Society, whose catalogue of books on hawking contains a reference to every known publication on the subject (Bibliotheca Accipitraria, London, 1891). The actual origin of hawking, as of other old sports, is naturally hidden in the obscurity of the far-away past. No one would suppose that it was practised as early in the world’s history as the sister sports of hunting and fishing. But Mr. Harting’s researches have resulted in convincing him that it was known at least as early as 400 B.C., although its introduction into Europe must clearly be placed at a much later date. It is remarkable enough that the Greeks, whose country abounds in wild hawks, should have known nothing of their use in the service of man. Homer, indeed, speaks of the mountain falcon as “the most nimble of birds,” (

ἡὑτε κἱρχος ὁρεσφιν, ἑλαφρὁτατος πετεηνὡν Il. xxii. 139); but Sophocles, in alluding to the triumphs of man in taming and using wild creatures, omits all mention of the training of hawks, which is certainly more worthy of notice than mere bird-catching or the breaking-in of oxen (Soph. Antig. 343). Even the later Roman authors refer to the use of trained hawks as an unfamiliar practice, in vogue only amongst some of the barbarian tribes.

Until at least some centuries after the Christian era, China and other countries in the Far East seem to have been the chief if not the only homes of falconry. But the Lombards, when they settled in North Italy, in the latter half of the sixth century, were acquainted with the art; and before the end of the ninth century it was familiar to the Saxons in England and throughout the West of Europe. Henry the Fowler, who became Emperor in 919, seems to have been so nicknamed on account of his devotion to this form of sport, which was already a favourite with princes and magnates. The Saxon King Ethelbert wrote to the Archbishop of Mayence for hawks able to take cranes. King Harold habitually carried a trained hawk on his fist; and from the time of the Norman Conquest hawking was a sport as highly honoured in the civilised world as hunting. The greatest impulse that was ever given to the sport in Western Europe was derived from the returning Crusaders, many of whom, in the course of their travels to the East, had become acquainted with the Oriental falconers and the Asiatic modes of training and flying hawks. Conspicuous amongst such Crusaders was the Emperor Frederick II., who brought back with him some Asiatic hawks and their trainers, and who not only was himself an enthusiastic and accomplished falconer, but even declared that falconry was the noblest of all arts. From that time—early in the thirteenth century—for more than four hundred years falconry flourished in Europe, as well as in the East, as a fashionable sport amongst almost all classes. As in the case of hunting and fishing, its attractions as a sport were supplemented by the very material merits it possessed as a means of procuring food. While the prince and the baron valued their falcon-gentle for its high pitch and lordly stoop, the yeoman and the burgher set almost equal store on the less aristocratic goshawk and the plebeian sparrow-hawk as purveyors of wholesome delicacies for the table. Even the serf or villein was not forgotten in the field, and was expected, or at least allowed, to train and carry on his fist the humble but well-bred and graceful kestrel.

During this long period the example of Henry the Fowler was followed freely by many of the most celebrated and powerful rulers in European countries. Hardly a prominent personage amongst the great conquerors and lawgivers in mediæval times was unacquainted with the art. Most of them were as enthusiastic in their devotion to it as they were to the more serious objects of their ambition. It would be wearisome to recount the long list of royal falconers; and it will suffice to merely mention a few of the most notable examples. Thus Edward III. was accompanied on his warlike expedition with a whole train of falconers. His father had been indulged in his imprisonment with liberty to go hawking. Shakespeare has familiarised his readers with the hawking parties of Henry VI. and his Queen (2 Hen. VI. ii. I); and few people have failed to read the story of the broken leaping-pole which precipitated Henry VIII. into a ditch as he was following a hawk. Louis XI. and a host of French kings, including Francis I., were ardent falconers, as were many of the kings of Castile and Arragon, Sardinia, and Hungary. Henry of Navarre was excelled by few men in his passion for this sport. James IV. of Scotland gave a jewelled hood to one of the Flemings, because the latter had won a match in which his hawk flew against the King’s. And James I. of England enjoyed nothing more keenly than a day’s hawking, declaring that if a man had only patience and good-temper enough to contend with the disappointments inseparable from it, the sport would be preferable to hunting. Catherine II. of Russia was as great at falconry as at most other things, and specially delighted in the flight with merlins. Ecclesiastics, both great and small, were not a whit behind the laity in their devotion to the sport of the air. It was thought no scorn for a holy-water clerk to carry a “musket” or male sparrow-hawk. Not only did Cardinal Beaufort fly his falcons with those of the great Duke of Gloucester, but no less a potentate than Pope Leo X. was constantly in the field at Ravenna, and even incurs the blame of the great D’Arcussia for being in the habit of too soundly rating his comrades during a flight. The hawking establishments of all the earlier Bourbons were kept up in more than royal style, and were supplied annually with rare falcons from many parts of the world.

It was the invention of shot-guns that struck the first and most deadly blow at the popularity of hawking. It was soon discovered that wild-fowl, rabbits, and most kinds of game could be captured much more easily and cheaply by the aid of “vile saltpetre” than by the laborious and costly processes involved in the reclaiming and moulting and conditioning of hawks. Economy, as well as novelty, pleaded in favour of the new sport of shooting. At the same time, the common use of fowling-pieces added a fresh and formidable danger for the owners of hawks, already exposed to a thousand unfair risks of losing their favourites. In the unsettled state to which Europe was reduced by the innumerable wars consequent on the Reformation, it was impossible for falconers to identify or punish those who recklessly or deliberately slaughtered a neighbour’s lost hawks; and although the offenders were still liable to serve penalties, they could snap their fingers at the protective laws. Finally, the more rapid subdivision of the land, and its enclosure with fences for agricultural purposes, spoilt, for the falconer’s purposes, large tracts of country which had formerly been the most suitable, and was especially hurtful to the flying of the long-winged hawks, for which an expanse of open ground is indispensable. On the Continent these various causes operated surely but slowly to displace falconry in the public estimation. But in England a special circumstance almost ruined it at one blow. The outbreak of the Great Civil War interrupted rudely all peaceful sports, and its disasters destroyed a vast number of those who were the best patrons of hawking. From the blow then struck English falconry never rallied in any general sense. Certainly it did revive, or rather survive, to a certain extent. It would be wrong to suppose that the sport has ever been extinct in the British Isles, as so many writers are fond of reiterating. But its devotees have kept it up without any of the pomp and show which once distinguished it, carrying on in comparative privacy, and in the retirement of rather remote spots, an amusement in which the difficulties always besetting the sport were aggravated by a thousand new dangers and annoyances.

The annals of falconry, since it was deposed from its fashionable place—in England by the Great Rebellion, and afterwards in France by the Revolution—are obscure, and for the most part buried in oblivion. Here and there the name of a notable falconer, professional or amateur, emerges from the mist, showing us that the sport was still carried on with vigour by a few. In the middle of the eighteenth century Lord Orford flew kites in the eastern counties, and this sport, as well as rook-hawking and heron-hawking, was successively carried on by the Falconers' Society, the Falconers’ Club, and the High Ash Club, which latter existed from about 1792 to later than 1830, and included amongst its members Lord Berners, Colonel Thornton, and other sporting celebrities. In Scotland falconry has always been kept up. The life of John Anderson covers the whole of the last half of the eighteenth century, as well as more than a quarter of the nineteenth. This accomplished trainer of hawks was for the first twenty years or so of the present century in charge of the Renfrewshire establishment kept by Fleming of Barochan, and flown chiefly at partridges and woodcocks. During the early years of the same century, until 1814, Colonel Thornton did a great deal of hawking on his own account, at first in Yorkshire, and afterwards at Spy Park, in Wiltshire. From 1823 to 1833 Mr. John Sinclair flew woodcocks with success in Ireland. In 1840 Lord O’Neill and Colonel Bonham took a moor in Ross-shire for hawking; and in the following year the Loo Club was started for heron-hawking in Holland, under the auspices of Mr. E. Clough Newcome. This influential club continued to flourish till 1853. Its place was taken, not many years after, by the Old Hawking Club, which, although it has never undertaken the flight at herons, continues to carry on an annual campaign against rooks and game with great credit and success. In France a hawking club was started in 1865, under the title of the Champagne Club, but was not long-lived; and several minor attempts at organising new clubs have been made in England during the last thirty years. There are at the present moment at least thirty private establishments in England alone where trained hawks are kept and flown, besides several in Scotland and Ireland. The names of several of the leading amateurs now living will be mentioned in this and following chapters.

Of professional falconers, the supply has sadly dwindled away since the time when the office of Grand Falconer was something more than the hereditary title of the Dukes of St. Albans. It was not, however, until quite recent years that the supply became quite unequal to the demand. At the death of John Anderson in 1832 there were able successors to keep alive the best traditions of the old Scotch school. Foremost among them was Peter Ballantine, of whom, as well as of Mr. Newcome, excellent likenesses are published in Mr. Harting’s fine work, Bibliotheca Accipitraria. This accomplished trainer survived until 1884. Nearly contemporary with him were the brothers Barr, whose names are frequently mentioned in these pages. While these and others upheld the sport in Scotland, England, Ireland, and France—for John Barr acted as the falconer of the Champagne Club—John Pells in Norfolk, once falconer to the Duke of Leeds, attained to great efficiency and repute; and the names of Bots and Möllen became celebrated in Holland as the successful hawk-catchers and servants of the Loo Club. Later still, John Frost acted for eighteen years as the energetic and skilful falconer of the Old Hawking Club. He was succeeded by George Oxer, who, with the Retfords (James and William) and the sons of John Frost, is still living. There are at the present moment several very young falconers who bid fair to attain distinction, though their training is derived mostly from lessons imparted to them by the amateurs who have brought them out. It is to be hoped that, now the facilities for travelling are so immensely increased, some modern imitator of Frederick II. will bring back from India a native falconer or two, whose experience in the tropics would be invaluable, and thus infuse new life into the professional world of Europe.

Of amateurs there has been for some years past no lack in England; and want of space alone prevents the enumeration of the distinguished falconers who still keep up in the British islands and dependencies the best traditions of their art. Amongst these it would be unfair to pass over the most conspicuous names, such as those of the late Lord Lilford and Captain Salvin and Mr. William Brodrick, the first named as justly famous for his acquaintance with hawks as for his knowledge of ornithology. Captain Salvin first familiarised the modern English people with the training of cormorants, and with the flight with peregrines at rooks. Mr. Brodrick illustrated with his own admirable coloured figures the handsome and useful book on falconry which he published jointly with Captain Salvin. Another joint-author with the latter was the Rev. Gage Earle Freeman, who for many years most successfully flew, in a far from perfect country, peregrines at grouse, merlins at larks, goshawks and sparrow-hawks at various quarry. The small book which owes its authorship to these two masters of the art has long been out of print. It is impossible to praise it too highly as a handbook for beginners. Of living falconers, no one can be compared in experience and general knowledge with Major Hawkins Fisher, of the Castle, Stroud, whose game-hawks have for more than fourteen years annually killed good bags of grouse at Riddlehamhope, in Northumberland, and whose favourite peregrines, such as “Lady Jane,” "Lundy," and “Band of Hope,” have been a terror to partridges in Wilts and Gloucestershire. Mr. St. Quintin, of Scampston Hall, Yorkshire, probably the most successful game-hawker of whom we have any record, has recently brought to a high degree of perfection the flight with peregrines at gulls. The fine sport shown at rooks every year in Wiltshire by the Old Hawking Club, is due chiefly to the ability and energy of their secretary, the Hon. Gerald Lascelles. In flights with short-winged hawk of both descriptions, Mr. John Riley, of Putley Court, Herefordshire, is facile princeps. The late Rev. W. Willemot did some good work with falcons at gulls before this branch of the sport was taken up by Mr. St. Quintin; and the late Mr. T. J. Mann, of Hyde Hall, Sawbridgeworth, was successful with rooks and partridges in Cambridgeshire. Probably the most splendid establishment of hawks in England during the last forty years was that of the late Maharajah Dhuleep Singh at Elvedon. Falconry in India has been extensively practised by many English officers quartered in that part of the world, and notably by General Griffiths, and more lately by Captain S. Biddulph, who has probably killed a greater variety of wild quarry than any European now living, and whose portraits of trained hawks are above all praise. Colonel Delmé Radcliffe, Colonel Brooksbank, Colonel Watson, Captain Crabbe, the late Sir Henry Boynton, Mr. A. W. Reed, Major Anne, and Mr. Arthur Newall, are all enthusiastic and successful falconers. Colonel Ayshford Sanford, Major C. W. Thompson, of the 7th Dragoon Guards, and the writer of these pages, have had considerable success with merlins.

In France, the names of MM. Barachin, Sourbets, Arbel, and Belvallette for the short-winged hawks, and MM. Pichot and Paul Gervais for other kinds, require honourable notice; and in Russia that of the late M. Constantine Haller will always be remembered. It is not many years since the latter originated and carried into effect the scheme of an International Hawking Congress, to be held near St. Petersburg. This was attended by many Asiatic falconers, and one from England. But the impossibility of finding suitable wild quarry in accessible places sadly interfered with the success of the meeting; and the result was not proportionate to the great trouble of organising it.

It will naturally be supposed that a sport so fashionable, so prevalent, and so difficult as falconry, has been discussed at length in many writings and in many languages. For the very extensive literature treating of its art and practice in different parts of the world, the reader is referred to Mr. Harting’s Bibliotheca Accipitraria, already mentioned, in which a full account is given of no less than three hundred and seventy-eight works on the subject. Of these, eighty-two are in English, and eighty-four in French. The German publications number forty-six, the Italian thirty-eight, the Japanese fourteen, and there are several in Spanish, Russian, Latin, Greek, and Chinese.

The most notable works, besides those already mentioned, are the Latin treatise written by the Emperor Frederick II.; The Boke of St. Albans, by Dame Juliana Berners, 1486; the volumes published by Turbervile in 1575, by Latham in 1615, and by Bert on the short-winged hawks in 1635. Still more interesting are the books written in French by Charles d’Arcussia, which date from 1598 to 1627. The nineteenth century has produced several important works, including the small treatise by Sir John Sebright, 1826, and the splendid illustrated volume by Schlegel and Wulverhorst, 1853. The Badminton Library contains half a volume on Falconry from the very able pen of Mr. Gerald Lascelles; and the Encyclopædia Britannica has an article on the subject by Colonel Delmé Radcliffe.

To look for any real revival of falconry in Europe would be altogether quixotic. Lucky indeed may the falconer of the future consider himself if the art even survives. Already the goshawk, the ger, and the golden eagle are almost extinct in England; sparrow-hawks have become so rare that constant advertisements offering to buy one remain without response; the harmless hobby and innocuous merlin are ferociously persecuted, and have been exterminated in most of their favourite haunts. A lost hawk has become almost a synonym for a murdered hawk. Owners are beset with enemies on every hand, besides being plagued and pestered by ignorant and impertinent intruders, if ever they venture with their hawks into a public place. The country becomes more and more unsuitable for hawking purposes. Upon many of the most open spaces bricks and mortar intrude; upon other parts the vexatious small plantations designed as shelters for game. Even when a suitable grouse-moor or partridge-ground is found in want of a tenant, obstacles may be raised. A baseless but deep-rooted prejudice deters many lessors from allowing trained hawks to be flown over their land, on the absurd plea that it will spoil it for subsequent tenants. In short, the impediments with which the modern falconer has to contend are too many and too great for any but a few very determined sportsmen. These, when they have once mastered the initial difficulties, usually persist in preferring the sport to any other. “Once a falconer, always a falconer,” is a maxim of universal truth. And the fraternal spirit which animates most English falconers—and, for that matter, most falconers throughout the world—is not the least agreeable feature presented by this ancient and honourable field sport.

[CHAPTER II]

The Birds used in Hawking

Of the numerous birds of prey which are found in various parts of the globe, a good many have been employed in the service of man as agents in the pursuit of other birds and of four-footed animals, partly for purposes of supplying him with food, and partly for sport. It is more than probable that others might be similarly trained and flown, especially some of the American and Australian hawks, which seem suitable for the purpose, but which have never yet, as far as we know, been thus taken in hand. It is not, however, proposed to describe at length any members of the large family of Raptores, except such as are known to have been used in hawking; and with regard to those which have been flown only in remote parts of the world, considerations of space necessitate a very brief reference.

It has usually been said that the list of birds used in hawking includes only two main divisions—the long-winged hawks, as falconers call them, known to naturalists under the name of “falcons”; and the short-winged hawks, to which the men of science apply specially the name of hawks. This ornithological classification of falcons on the one hand and hawks on the other, is not a very happy one; for in the general public estimation, as well as in falconers’ phraseology, every falcon is a hawk, although every hawk may not be properly called a falcon. The one term is of classic, and the other of Teutonic origin; and it was too late, when books about birds first began to be written scientifically, to attempt to establish a hard-and-fast difference between words which had already passed current for centuries as meaning pretty much the same thing. Moreover, hawking, which, if the naturalists’ view of the matter were accepted, ought to be concerned, like the French autourserie, with the short-winged hawks only, has long been considered in England a mere synonym for falconry, which also, if interpreted strictly according to the ornithological theory, ought to be regarded as dealing with the long-winged species.

The two-fold division, however, no matter whether it is into falcons and hawks, or into short-winged and long-winged hawks, seems to be insufficient and unsatisfactory. For eagles, which have been, and still are, extensively used in a sport for which the only English names are hawking and falconry, remain unincluded in the two usually accepted classes. No eagle can properly be called either a hawk or a falcon; and in order to find a place for them amongst the birds trained and flown at quarry, it seems necessary to institute a third class. What order of precedence should be taken by such new class is a matter of small consequence. In symmetry of shape, in its mode of flying, its character, and its tastes, the eagle is as inferior to the true hawk as the latter has always been deemed to be to the true falcon; and in this work, as in others on falconry, the first place has been retained for the long-winged hawks, and the second for the short-winged, leaving a third place for what little it seems necessary to say about such eagles as we know to have been flown at game.

The long-winged hawk is known by the following characteristics:—The second primary feather in the wing, reckoning from the outside, is the longest, or at least equal in length to any other, as in the merlin, which has the second and third feathers very nearly or quite of the same length. The upper mandible has on each of its sides, about a third part of the distance from the point to the cere, a projection somewhat resembling a very blunt tooth. The eye is dark brown. The wing is long enough in the outer joint to come down, when closed, considerably more than half-way between the end of the tail coverts and the end of the tail itself, and in some cases, as in the hobby, as far as the tail, or even farther.

In the short-winged hawks the wing is comparatively short in the outer joint, and, when expanded, presents a rounded appearance at the end, the fourth primary being the longest, and the first very short. That emargination, or narrowing in, of the feather near its end, which is observable in the first two primaries of the long-winged hawk, is still more pronounced in the short-winged, and is conspicuous in the third and fourth primaries also. The tail is long, and large when expanded. The iris is of some shade of yellow, light or dark. The upper mandible curves in a smooth line, without any projecting tooth.

SHAPE OF WINGS

In the eagles the tail is shorter and stouter. The outer joint of the wing is shorter than in the falcons, the wing deriving its power from the feathers near the body rather than from the outer ones. The beak is longer in shape than that of the other two sorts, and the legs are proportionately stouter. The size of the smallest eagle is very much greater than that of the largest falcon or hawk.

The differences which exist in the shape of the wing between the three classes will perhaps be best appreciated by a glance at the accompanying illustration, in which a characteristic wing of each kind is figured.

The French have convenient terms (see Belvallette, Traité d’Autourserie, Paris, 1887) which express in themselves, with great perspicuity, though perhaps a little exaggeration, the different methods of flying employed by the short- and the long-winged hawks. The latter they describe as ramiers, or rowers, because their mode of progression through the air resembles that of an oarsman, or rather sculler, striking with repeated beats of his sculls; whilst they describe the short-winged hawks (with eagles and all birds that have rounded wings) as voiliers, or sailers, maintaining that their impulse is gained by the pressure of the air against the wing, upon which it acts as upon a sail. Many people may be inclined to call such a distinction rather fanciful, and even question its truth; but the mere fact that the two words have been accepted as correctly denoting the two separate styles of flying, shows what a marked difference between them has been generally admitted to exist. It will be seen that the mode of flying the “rowers” and the “sailers” at quarry is also very distinct.

In accordance with the three-fold classification above suggested, I now proceed to mention the various birds used in hawking under the successive headings of—(1) Long-winged hawks; (2) Short-winged hawks; and (3) Eagles.

I. THE LONG-WINGED HAWKS (Falcons)[1]

[1] It should be observed that although the term falcon has an established meaning among ornithologists as a name for the long-winged hawks, it is used by falconers in quite a different acceptation. In hawking phraseology it is applied, in contradistinction to the term tiercel, to the female of the larger sorts of long-winged hawks, and especially to the female peregrine. Thus when a falconer is described as being possessed of “two falcons,” or a hare is mentioned as having been taken by a “falcon,” the reader is expected to know that the female peregrine is referred to, and not a male peregrine, or a saker, lanner, or any other kind of hawk.

Perhaps the leading characteristic in the flying of this kind of hawk is that it habitually captures its prey, or, as falconers term it, “quarry,” by making a dash or shot at it, technically called a stoop, from some position where it can command an advantage in speed and force. In many cases the bird is itself so conscious of this natural aptitude for stooping in preference to mere following, that it habitually places itself, when on the look-out for food, at a considerable height, from which it can descend with great ease and velocity upon any victim which may happen to be passing beneath, using the principle of gravity to increase the force of its downward flight; and in several departments of the falconer’s art the trainer endeavours to encourage the tendency of his hawk to mount and make the most of the advantage so gained. The long-winged hawks are as a rule trained to come to the lure, and not to the fist, although for the sake of convenience it is sometimes found advisable to make them to both practices.

Greenland Falcon (Falco candicans)

Female—Length, about 23 inches; wing, 16.5; tail, 9. Male—Length, about 20 inches; wing, 14.5; tail, 8.

The general colour in the adult of both sexes is white, with more or less faint bars of light brownish grey on the upper plumage, and spots of the same colour underneath. The young birds of both sexes are considerably darker than their elders, with a much larger allowance of darker grey brown on the plumage both above and below. These dark patches and markings become fainter and less abundant at each moult, until in very old birds they almost vanish, leaving the hawk to appear at a distance merely white. The bars on the back, shoulders, and wings are often shaped like the two arms of an anchor; and the spots on the breast are mostly tear-shaped, especially after the first moult. The legs, feet, cere, and eyelids are bluish grey in the young birds, but after the first moult become yellow, strengthening in colour at each moult.

It will be seen by reference to the remarks on comparative merits of falcons ([Chap. XVIII.]), that in proportions this species excels all the other gers. It is also the most majestic in its appearance and attitudes, and the most noble in the expression of its eyes and, if the term may be permitted, of its countenance. It was not so much used in the Middle Ages as the other gers, by reason of the difficulty of obtaining it, but was probably the most highly valued of all. The late Lord Lilford, who in quite modern times had a good deal of experience with this species, opined that it was an excellent flier and stooper, but a poor “footer,” that it was the reverse of hardy, and difficult to keep in condition. When observed in the wild state in Scotland it was found to kill a great many rooks, and to be dreaded by the wild-fowl, but not to be partial to game, though it was seen to make an ineffectual stoop at a blackcock.

Iceland Falcon (Falco islandus)

Female—Length, about 24 inches; wing, about 17; tail, 9¼. Male—Length, about 21 inches; wing, 15; tail, 8¼.

In young birds the upper parts are dark greyish brown or brownish grey, each feather barred and tipped with a much lighter grey. The under plumage is dusky white, splashed more or less profusely, especially on the breast and flanks, with streaky spots and splashes of greyish brown. At the first moult the brown tinge begins to disappear, and the spots on the breast and flanks become more heart-shaped than longitudinal, and less profuse. In subsequent moults the spots become smaller and smaller, and the whole plumage fades to a lighter grey, the bars on the upper plumage often softening gradually to a greyish white. The sides of the head and lower nape are white, with brownish lead-coloured shaft marks in the immature plumage, fading and diminishing as the hawk moults. The moustachial streak is wanting in this variety.

This species of ger was very highly esteemed in antiquity; and individual falcons were occasionally presented by the kings of Denmark to foreign potentates as a high compliment. In modern times it has been found delicate, and difficult to keep in health. Mr. Newcome had some which flew well at herons, but did not find them so generally effective as peregrines. The late Maharajah Dhuleep Singh flew them with success at hares. Lord Lilford, however, was unable to get them to fly rabbits or hares, and found them liable to a troublesome affection of the feet.

Norway Falcon (Falco gyrfalco)

Female—Length, about 22 inches; wing, 16; tail, 9. Male—Length, 19½ inches; wing, 14; tail, 8¼.

In the young the general colour of the upper plumage is a lead-coloured brown, each feather tipped and margined with a somewhat lighter brown or buff. The flight feathers are also similarly margined. The lower back is sometimes tinged with grey. The tail is tipped with white, and barred rather closely with a speckly buff. The breast is profusely streaked with longitudinal blotches on a white ground, as in the peregrine; but these markings are of a rather duller brown. At the moult the markings on the under plumage diminish greatly in size and number, especially on and near the chin, and become more or less tear-shaped—this tendency to decrease continuing in subsequent moults. In the upper plumage the brown is replaced by slatey grey, barred with a lighter blue-grey, which in patches, especially upon parts of the feathers which are habitually hidden, are nearly white. The tail becomes slatey brown, with narrow bars of brownish grey. This species has a broad well-marked moustachial streak, which is dark brown in the immature and dark grey in the adult. The cere and eyelids are blue-grey, and the legs and feet bluish lead colour; but all become yellow in the adult.

This species is found not only in Norway, but also along the whole expanse of Northern Europe and Asia. It is the nearest in colouring and disposition to the peregrine, and the most remote from the Greenlander. Lord Lilford considered that it was not so fast as the Greenlander, and its shape is certainly not so indicative either of speed or of strength. John Barr was sent over by Captain Dugmore some few years ago to Norway, and brought back sixteen of these hawks. They flew beautifully to the lure, turning more quickly than a peregrine, and stooping with greater dash, but were of little use in the field, and mostly fell speedy victims to the croaks or other maladies.

Labrador Falcon (Falco labradorus)

This is another species of the ger family, found, as its name imports, in Labrador. It is of a much darker coloration than even the Norway falcon, but not very different in measurements. It has not, as far as I can learn, been trained for sporting purposes, though no doubt it very well might be.[2]

[2] Although the name gyrfalco—the gyrating or circling falcon—is now appropriated by most ornithologists to the Norway birds, all the foregoing were included by the old falconers under the name ger, gyr, or jer. They are all so styled, and very properly, by modern usage. They are indeed little, if anything, more than climatic varieties of the same bird, and although it has not been ascertained beyond a doubt that they interbreed, this is highly probable. The lightest variety of each one species is almost, if not quite, undistinguishable from the darkest of the next; and the character of all is similar enough to admit of their being trained and treated in the same way. From the falconer’s point of view, there will certainly be less difference between one Iceland falcon and one of either of the two nearest allied species than there may be between two individual specimens of F. islandus. They will all therefore be dealt with in the remaining chapters under the same general name of gers, unless when any special consideration involves a more specific indication.

The difference of size between the two sexes in the case of these splendid birds is, as it will be seen, considerable. But both are so superior in speed and strength to any creatures at which they are at all likely to be flown in England, that the list of quarry suitable for the gerfalcon will, with a very few exceptions, serve for the ger tiercel also. This list includes gulls of all kinds, herons, rooks and crows, wood-pigeon, black-game, grouse, partridges, hares and rabbits, wild-duck of all descriptions, Norfolk plover, and all the sea-fowls found on the coasts of Great Britain and Ireland, except swans, and perhaps wild geese. The gerfalcon will also take these latter, as well as kites and cranes, peacocks, ptarmigan, and bustards, at which the best of them may be flown in countries where such birds are to be found in sufficiently open places. It is recorded of Henry, king of Navarre, that he had a gerfalcon which Scaliger declares to have struck down in his sight a buzzard, two wild geese, divers kites, a crane, and a swan (Sir Thomas Browne, cited by Harting, Bibliotheca Accipitraria, xxvii.). The flight of the ger is marked by an appearance of power suitable to its size and shape, and combines in an extraordinary degree swiftness and the power of turning readily. When taught to wait on, it does so in majestic style, often at a stupendous height; and its stoop from that direction is so “hard,” as the old falconers termed it, or in other words so swift and impetuous, that the quarry is less often clutched and held than struck down with a blow as the hawk passes, and is often found either killed or altogether disabled by the violence of the shock. So great, indeed, is the vehemence with which the ger flies and stoops, that the old masters warned their pupils not to work them long on any occasion, for fear of tiring them, and thus lowering their “pitch,” or impairing their powers of mounting.

Gers have not had a very fair trial in the hands of modern falconers. They have seldom come into their possession under favourable conditions. Greenlanders, especially, have for the most part been brought to European shores by ships, upon which they were caught at sea by men quite unacquainted with the proper mode of treating a wild-caught hawk. Almost always their plumage has suffered badly; and they themselves, having been kept alive on unsuitable or scanty food, have been reduced so low as to permanently lose some of their natural strength and vitality. The same thing may be said of several Icelanders and Norwegians which have reached the hands of the falconer in pitiable plight. Gers are very seldom taken on the passage in Holland, although one tiercel, captured by Adrian Möllen in 1878, was acquired and trained by the Old Hawking Club, and proved a fine performer at rooks. Reference has already been made to the gers brought by John Barr from Norway. Mr. Newcome, who in the treatment of peregrines was excelled by no falconer of modern times, was dissatisfied with the gers which he trained, and found them difficult to keep in condition.

D’Arcussia, who, of course, had many gers under his charge, declares that their principal excellence was in mounting, whereas in the downward stoop the peregrine might be awarded the palm. This opinion, however, can hardly be reconciled with the more forcible and striking words which he uses in another passage, where he tells us that having trained some gers for partridges he took them out before a company of experts, who, after seeing these hawks fly, were “disgusted with all other hawks.”

Peregrine (Falco peregrinus)

Female—Length, about 18 inches; wing, 14; tail, 7; tarsus, 2¼. Male—Length, about 16 inches; wing, 12; tail, 6; tarsus, 2.

In young birds of both sexes the upper plumage is a more or less dark brown, inclining in some individuals to chocolate colour, and in others to black, each feather of the back, wing, and tail coverts tipped with a lighter and more rufous brown. The chin, neck, breast, thighs, and whole under plumage is more or less dull creamy white, streaked plentifully with longitudinal blotches of dark brown, which are thin and small at the neck, but become broader and bigger as they approach the lower part of the breast, dying away again towards the vent. The tail is greyish brown on the upper surface, tipped with more or less rufous white, and barred with five or six rather irregular and rather faint bands of darker brown. The under part of the tail is very faint brownish grey, barred with a somewhat darker hue of the same colour. The sides of the head and neck are dull creamy white, streaked with very small dashes and markings of dark brown. On the under side of the eyebrow, passing round the eyelids, is a patch or streak of very dark brown, and a broad streak of the same colour or of black reaches like a moustache from near the back of the upper mandible backwards for an inch.

The legs, feet, cere, and eyelids vary from light blue-grey to greenish yellow and pale ochre; beak, light bluish grey, darkening to black at the tip; claws—called always by falconers “talons”—black, as in other hawks of all kinds. In the first moult the brown of the whole upper plumage is replaced by a slatey blue, each feather from the shoulders to the end of the tail barred transversely and tipped more or less distinctly with a lighter shade of blue-grey. The slate colour on the crown and side of the head, including the moustache, is of a dark hue. The under plumage, instead of being streaked longitudinally with brown, becomes at the first moult spotted and splashed with markings of dark grey, which are partly transverse and partly shaped like an arrow-head or tear-drop, especially on the throat and gorge. At each successive moult these spots and markings become more transverse and bar-like, and also narrower and more sparse on the parts nearest the chin, until in very old birds they disappear on the chin and throat, leaving a blank surface of pure creamy white. Even before the first moult the feet and legs begin to assume a yellow colour; and by the time the first moult is over, they and the cere and eyelids have changed to a more or less decided yellow, which as the bird grows old develops into a rich gold.

Both sexes undergo the same changes in plumage, but it should be said that these hawks at all ages vary considerably in size and shape, and still more in their colouring. It is not unusual to see an eyess which has the head and parts of the upper plumage nearly black, while the brown of others at the same age is as light as cocoa, with buff edgings. Some detailed remarks as to the size and shape of peregrines and other hawks will be found in [Chapter XVIII.] , where it will be seen that some are of much more prepossessing appearance than others.

Speaking generally, the peregrine may be regarded as the most perfect type of combined strength, speed, and destructive power in birds. The proportions are such as could not be altered with any advantage, and adapt the hawk to a greater variety of flight than any other. This reason, and the fact that it is to be found in almost all parts of the habitable world, have always made it a favourite with falconers; and at the present day it is more highly esteemed in Europe than any other, even including the nobler gers.

The female—to which sex alone falconers allow the application of the name of falcon—may be flown with success in this country at herons, gulls of all kinds, ducks of all kinds, crows, rooks, grouse, black-game, partridge, pheasant, woodcock, landrail, Norfolk plover, curlew, and other sea birds of about the same size, magpies, wood-pigeons, and doves. She may also generally, if desired, be taught to fly at hares, and no doubt at rabbits. Occasionally she may take plovers and snipe, jackdaws, kestrels, and smaller birds. In India her list includes wild geese, cranes, bitterns, ibis, and bustard.

The male peregrine—always called a tiercel (tassel, or tiercelet), because he is about a third smaller in size than his sister—may be flown at gulls, teal, widgeon, partridges, woodcock, landrail, starling, and the smaller sea birds, magpies, and doves; and when exceptionally strong and courageous, will succeed to a greater or less extent with rooks, crows, jackdaws, grouse, wood-pigeons, and kestrels. In India and Eastern countries the francolin and the florican, and several sorts of duck and plovers, may be added to the list.

The peregrine at different ages was described in old times by a great variety of names, some of which are now little used, or even understood. Thus, in the eyrie or nest, from the time when she was “disclosed,” or hatched, for a fortnight or three weeks she was called an eyess (or nyas, from the French niais). When able to move about on her legs she became a ramage hawk; and when she could jump or flit from branch to branch, a brancher. After leaving the nest and becoming fledged, as the term is for other birds, she was described as a soar-hawk or sore-hawk (French, sor, from the Latin saurus, reddish brown); and when her feathers were all fully grown down she was said to be summed, whereas before this time she remained unsummed. The period during which she could properly be called a soar-hawk lasted, according to some eminent writers, from June 15 to September 15, when the migrating time begins, and she came to be more properly spoken of as a passage-hawk (or true pélérin). This designation carried her down to the end of the year, when she assumed, according to the French falconers, the title of antennaire; that is to say, a hawk whose feathers, or whose whole self, belong to last year (antan). Many of the English falconers, however, gave her no new title until at or near the arrival of Lent, when they called her a Lantiner, Lentener, or Lent-hawk, for as long as Lent lasted, that is to say, till near moulting-time. The great similarity of the two names Lantiner and Antennaire, given as they were to the same hawk at the same time of her life in the two countries, suggests a strong doubt whether the former was not a mere corruption of the latter. During the whole of this time the unmoulted peregrine was known, from the colour of her plumage, as a red hawk; and this term is still constantly employed. Many writers also called her during the same period merely a soar-hawk, neglecting the finer distinctions. It seems also that for a hawk which had been taken in August or thereabouts, and kept in captivity, it was quite correct to continue the name soar until her first moult was over. Passage-hawks and lantiners were those only which had been caught in late autumn or late winter; and these words could never be used for such as had been caught before. As for the terms “gentle” and “slight,” they seem most properly to belong to peregrines which had been caught after they left the nest, but before they began to migrate.

In spring or early summer the young peregrine naturally begins to moult; and as soon as this tedious operation is concluded she becomes, if wild, a “haggard,” and if tame, an “intermewed” hawk. In any case she is described as “blue,” and not “red.” There is some doubt as to the meaning of the term haggard, many authorities, including the lexicographers, deriving it from the Saxon hag, meaning hedge. A more rational explanation seems to be that which traces it to the Hebrew word agar or hagar, meaning wild, as it is used in the Old Testament. Wildness, indeed, is always regarded by Shakespeare and other writers as the characteristic of the adult wild hawk, and not any liking for hedges, to which no peregrine is very partial.

The language, or jargon, of falconry appropriated to the falcon, and, by analogy, to other hawks, especially of the long-winged species, special terms for various parts of her body and various movements and conditions; much in the same way as several of the Oriental languages describe the actions of royalty by special names. Thus her wings are sails: the long feathers of them are flight feathers; and of these the outer are principals; and next to them are the flags. Her tail is her train; and the two central feathers of it are deck feathers. Her lower leg is an arm, and her foot a hand, with petty singles instead of toes, and talons instead of vulgar claws. Her nostrils are nares; her breast feathers are mails; her lower intestine is her pannel; and her crop her gorge.

A host of the commonest actions are dignified by more or less quaint appellations. When a hawk sleeps she “jowks”; when she sips water she “bowses.” When she seizes her quarry in the air she “binds” to it; and when her companion in the flight comes up and also takes hold, she or he is said to “join.” When she strips the feathers of the “pelt,” or dead body, of the quarry, she “deplumes”; and as she passes the food from her crop downwards she “puts over.” To “endue” is to digest; to “feak” is to wipe her beak after eating; to “rouse” is to shake herself; to “mantle” is to stretch out the leg in a sideways and backward direction, and afterwards stretch the wing over it; to “mute” is to evacuate; and to “cast” is to throw up the refuse feathers, bones, and other indigestible matter which remains in her crop after a meal has been digested. When a hawk is pushed or forcibly held down by the hands she is said to be “cast” (French, abattue); and when she is bound up in a wrapping, so as not to be able to move, she is “mailed.” When a silk thread is passed by means of a needle through the upper eyelids and made fast under the chin she is said to be “seeled,” and the process of undoing these fastenings is called “unseeling.” When she stretches her wings upwards over her head she “warbles.” When quarry is put up for her, she is “served” with it. When she drives a quarry to take refuge in covert she is said to “put in”; and when she rises in the air over the place where the quarry has gone into hiding she “makes her point.” If instead of doing this she goes and takes perch on a tree or other place of vantage, she “blocks.” When her digestive organs are brought into good condition she is said to be “enseamed.”

Most of these words can be used indifferently for both long-winged and short-winged hawks; but others are inappropriate for the latter. Thus it is wrong to call the claws of a short-winged hawk talons; and a goshawk or sparrow-hawk does not “mute,” but “slice.”

Black Shaheen (Falco peregrinator, or Falco atriceps)

This hawk is decidedly smaller than the true peregrine, the female hardly exceeding a big tiercel in length or weight. It is distinguished by the darker colour of its head, and especially of the sides and moustachial streak, which may be called black. The under parts of the body have a more or less pronounced rufous tinge; and the ends of the wings, when closed, approach more nearly to the end of the tail.

The black shaheen is docile, and more easily reclaimed than the peregrine; and is a great favourite with some of the Indian falconers, although the many distinguished Europeans who have flown hawks in that country express themselves less satisfied, and rather doubt the courage of peregrinator in the field. The quarry is the same as that of the peregrine, but it is only the strongest individuals which can be expected to cope with such heavy birds as the latter can tackle. Of the rapidity of its flight there can be no doubt; but Colonel Delmé Radcliffe says that it is inferior to the peregrine in “ringing” flights.

Red-naped Shaheen (Falco babylonicus)

Female—Length, about 17¼ inches; wing, 13; tail, 7¼. Male—Length, 15½ inches; wing, about 11¾; tail, 6¼.

This is another very near relation of the peregrine, also a favourite with the Indian falconers, both native and European. It is slightly smaller than the black shaheen, from which, as well as from F. peregrinus, it is readily distinguished by the reddish chestnut colour of the back of the head. The foot is smaller proportionately than that of the peregrine, and shaped rather more like that of the desert falcons. It is easily caught and reclaimed, and is said to develop a sort of affection for its trainer. When trained it is a most useful servant, and will fly with readiness and success at almost any of the innumerable Indian birds which are anywhere nearly of its own size. It excels particularly in the flight at wild ducks; and a specimen which was brought to England not many years ago proved a first-rate game-hawk. Latham asserts that it can be flown successfully at wild geese, but should be followed closely by well-mounted men, who should dismount quickly and secure the quarry, which may otherwise severely damage the hawk with its long and strong wings. He appears to have known a tiercel which flew rooks, and seldom missed as much as one in ten flights. It is a better moulter than the peregrine, and can sometimes be fully moulted by August.

Barbary Falcon (Falco barbarus)

Female—Length, about 13½ inches; wing, 11½; tail, 5½. Male—Length, about 12¾ inches; wing, 10¾; tail, 5.3.

This beautifully-shaped hawk is the smallest of those which have been commonly called miniature peregrines; and the resemblance is hardly so marked in either of the last-mentioned varieties. For the barbary is even more powerfully armed and feathered than her bigger cousins, having not only the wings conspicuously longer and more pointed than F. peregrinus, but also distinctly larger feet and talons, and a larger beak proportionately to her size. The colouring is the same as that of the peregrine, except that the young birds are generally lighter, especially about the head, which has a slightly ruddy tint; and the feet are more usually yellow than grey-blue. In adults the thighs are strongly marked with arrow-headed streaks. This hawk is sometimes called the Tartaret. It is found in the southern portion of the temperate zone, especially on the African and other shores of the Mediterranean.

The falcons and strong tiercels will fly well at partridges, pigeons, and doves. Quails, of course, are easily taken by them, as they are exceedingly fast on the wing. If a cast of haggards could be trained for peewit or snipe, and well entered, they would probably have as good a chance as any hawk which could be selected for these difficult flights.

Lesser Falcon (Falco minor)

This hawk very much resembles the last, but has longer legs, and a slight rufous tinge on the plumage. It is found chiefly in South Africa.

The Punic Falcon (F. punicus), the Javanese Falcon (F. melanogenys), and the Chilian Falcon (F. cassini), all more or less resemble the peregrine, but with variations in the colour of the plumage, and of smaller dimensions.

Saker (Falco sacer)

The measurements of this hawk, as of a great many others, are given in the so-called scientific books, even of highest repute, with hopeless inaccuracy. One of the authorities which is most often referred to gives the length of the female saker as 18½ inches, or the same as the peregrine, whereas every naturalist ought to know that the saker is a very much larger bird. On the other hand, the Royal Natural History (1895), coming much nearer the truth, says that “the female falls but little short of 25 inches, and the male measures more than 18½.” The proportions of this hawk, excepting the feet, do not differ greatly from those of the ger, although the colourings and general appearance are completely dissimilar. The weak point, from the falconer’s point of view, is the smallness of the feet and shortness of the middle toe, as well as the poor quality of the feathers, which have about them none of the glossy smartness so noticeable in the ger and the peregrine.

Young birds have the crown and nape buffy white, lighter on the forehead and over the eyebrows, and in other parts profusely streaked with dark brown. The upper plumage is a rather dull dark brown, with fulvous and rufous buff edgings. The tail, excepting the deck feathers, is marked with irregular oval spots, which range themselves into a sort of band. There is a distinct moustachial stripe. The under parts are buff-coloured, liberally streaked with splashes of dark brown, especially on the flanks; but the buff colour grows lighter on the upper parts, and at the chin becomes nearly white. The cere, legs, and feet are pale bluish or greenish grey.

In adults the head becomes much lighter, and sometimes dull white, but with a more or less rufous brown tint and streaks of darker colour. The upper parts are dull and rather pale brown, the feathers margined, and in some parts barred, with light fulvous buff. The flight feathers are faintly barred with a lighter brown, and all the tail feathers barred with light buff. The sides of the face, chin, throat, and breast are nearly white, the latter being spotted rather than streaked with brown, but not transversely barred. The moustachial streak fades away. The cere, feet, and legs assume a more or less pronounced yellow colour.

The saker is a tolerably common bird throughout almost the whole of Central and Southern Asia, and is there very highly valued for practical purposes. It was also largely imported into Western Europe in the Middle Ages, and later it was used even in France and England for the flight at kites. It is for this fine sport that it is now chiefly prized in India. The list of quarry taken by this very serviceable hawk is extremely large, and includes, besides the various kinds of tropical kites, hubara, or bustard, herons, black ibis, ducks, and a whole host of smaller birds. The flight at the short-eared owl is especially fine, and the quarry often rings, and attains to a very great height before the saker can get up. The female saker will take hares well, and also ravine deer.

The tiercel of the saker is more properly called a sakret, sakeret, or sackeret. This hawk is the largest of those called desert-hawks or desert-falcons.

Lanner (Falco lanarius)

Female—Length, 18 inches; wing, 13.3; tail, 7.2. Male or “Lanneret”—Length, 16½ inches; wing, 12; tail, 6½.

The dimensions of this desert-hawk do not differ widely from those of the peregrine, but the feet are much smaller, and the tail longer. The feathers are of an inferior quality, and the light colour of the head prevents all risk of confusion. The wings are slightly longer and heavier. Young birds have the whole back up to the nape of the neck and down to the tail coverts dark brown, each feather tipped with a lighter and more rufous brown. Wing and tail feathers darker brown, narrowly tipped with rufous buff. The deck feathers are plain, but the others are barred with lighter brown on the upper surface, and with dull brownish grey bands of two shades underneath. The crown of the head is light greyish buff, with narrow streaks of light brown. The lower plumage is more or less dull white, very variously marked in different individuals, but generally with longitudinal splashes of more or less dark brown. The change to the adult plumage is not very marked. The breast markings do not change to transverse bars; but some old birds have the brown markings so arranged as to appear like irregular bars. These markings, however, generally become very sparse, and often disappear entirely on the throat and upper breast. The upper plumage alters to a slatey brownish grey, most of the feathers being barred with a darker brown, and still tipped with a rufous line. The cere and feet change from a bluish to a yellowish grey.

The lanner is common in North Africa, as well as in Central and Southern Asia, and is very frequently trained and flown in all these parts of the world. It was also formerly very largely imported into England, and used chiefly for game-hawking. It enjoys, nevertheless, anything but a good character. The old English writers describe it as “slothful and hard mettled,” and of an “ungrateful disposition,” while the French characterise it as vilain and rebelle. The Indian and Afghan falconers get it, as well as the saker, into condition by frequent physicking; and the list of drugs formerly used for it in England is of portentous length. In modern times the dosing of this as well as other hawks is imperfectly understood by European falconers; and the lanner is consequently in most cases a disappointing bird. When thrown off, she flies in a heavy style, and only after considerable delay will begin to mount. Very often, too, she will not mount at all, but go to perch on a tree, or even on the ground. She is apt to rake away and check at pigeons, plovers, and what not, and to be dull and obstinately slow at coming to the lure. To ensure obedience she must be fed a good deal upon washed meat, and that in moderate quantities, her appetite, like that of all the desert-falcons, being apt to grow slack on the least overfeeding. The lanner is very partial to mice, and in the wild state appears to devour lizards and other reptiles. She is not, therefore, at all particular as to diet, and may be regaled with coarser food than the nobler falcons.

Once properly conditioned, however, and “on her day,” the lanner—or for that matter the lanneret, as the male is called—is a useful and deadly hawk. Both sexes will kill partridges freely, not waiting on so often when the quarry has put in as taking perch on a neighbouring tree, and waiting, like a sparrow-hawk, to start from there. The female has also been known to take wild-duck well, and will wait on, when she likes, at a stupendous height. For magpies the lanner would hardly be quick enough. Pheasants can usually be taken by the females at the first stoop. It is said that the Arabs fly the lanner at small gazelles and a kind of bustard, which it stoops at whenever it takes wing, and without actually striking it, frightens it on to its legs, so that it can be run down with hounds. This bird has the faculty of ejecting a slimy matter from its mouth and vent, which, if it reached the hawk, would incapacitate her from flying. Ringing flights are flown at a bird called the chakhah, resembling a golden plover; and the lanners which excel at this fetch a price equivalent to £50 or £60. The Arabs also fly the lanner at sand-grouse and francolin.

D’Arcussia declares that the sakers and lanners do better in stormy weather and high winds than the peregrine. Neither of them bear the heat well in temperate climates.

The South African Lanner (F. biarmicus) and the Tunisian Lanner, or Alphanet, are local species, having a more strongly rufous coloration than F. lanarius.

Lugger (Falco jugger)

Female—Length, 17 inches; wing, 13.6; tail, 8. Male—Length, 15 inches; wing, 12; tail, 7.

An Indian hawk, rarely found out of the peninsula. It is much used by the natives for a variety of quarry, and does a lot of useful work.

Eleonora Falcon (Falco eleonoræ)

Female—Length, about 15½ inches; wing, 13.3; tail, 7.5. Male—Length, about 13½ inches; wing, 11.8; tail, 6.5.

This is a hawk of the hobby type, much darker on the under parts, and with a good deal of black and rufous on the under surface of the wings. The feet are at first pale yellow, developing later into orange. The wings are long, but do not project, like the hobby’s, beyond the tail.

This hawk is common on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. It was observed and reported upon by Brooke in Sardinia, and Kruper in Greece, which latter observes that it is “a noble falcon, and was in early ages used for falconry.” I have not discovered the chapter or verse in which this use is mentioned; but the hawk is obviously quite big enough to be flown at partridges, if willing to go. Both the above-named naturalists maintain that its food consists principally of birds, and Dr. Kruper declares that he found in its nests the remains of six different kinds of bird, including quail and hoopoe. A specimen was trained by Lord Lilford in 1868, who found it very obedient to the lure, but of no use in the field.

Hobby (Falco sabbuteo)

Female—Length, 13 to 13½ inches; wing, 11¼; tail, 6¼. Male—Length, 11 to 12 inches; wing, about 10½; tail, 5½.

This very beautiful and graceful little hawk may at once be identified by the exceeding length of its wings, which, when closed, extend a full half-inch beyond the end of the tail. It is conspicuous also by its very marked colouring, which is in young birds almost black on the upper parts, each feather, however, being tipped with fulvous brown. The lower plumage is creamy white, streaked profusely with dark brown splashes, and tinted on the throat and sides of the head with a warm buff. There is a broad black patch below the eye, and a black eyebrow, with a small streak of buff above it. The moustache is broad and strongly marked. The cere is greenish grey; and the feet, originally of the same hue, develop gradually into light yellow, and later into gamboge and bright orange. The deck feathers are plain, but all the others are barred both above and below by about ten cross-bands of lighter brown.

In adults the upper plumage changes to a uniform dark slate colour, nearly black towards the head. The flanks and thighs, especially in the male, assume a more and more distinct rufous colour. The feet are proportionately small, and the legs decidedly weak.

There are strong evidences that the hobby, when commonly bred in Western Europe, was used with success for taking larks, not only by the process of “daring” referred to later on in the chapter on lark-hawking, but in actual flight, and that the female was used for taking partridges in the same way. The failure of modern falconers to make any practical use of this elegant and prepossessing hawk, is noticed in detail in the same chapter. Owing to its natural tameness, the hobby is especially liable to fall a victim to persecution by gamekeepers and naturalists, and has as a result been nearly exterminated in England.

A wild hobby has been seen by credible witnesses to take a swift on the wing in Bulgaria. A trained female has been known in England to take house-pigeons.

Merlin (Falco æsalon)

Female—Length, 11½ to 12 inches; wing, 8½ to 9; tail, 5¼ to 5¾; weight, about 8 oz. Male—Length, 10½ to 11 inches; wing, 8 to 8¼; tail, 4¾ to 5; weight, 6¼ to 6¾ oz.

Females and young males have the whole upper plumage a rich chocolate brown, with reflections of purplish grey, each feather on the back and upper wing coverts tipped with a somewhat lighter brown, and crossed by a buff bar, which is usually not to be seen except when the plumage is disarranged or ruffled. Each feather also has a black shaft, which is conspicuous in strong lights on a close view. The primaries and all the principal feathers of the wing are very dark brown on the upper surface, barred with several patches of light brown or buff. The under surface of the wing is very light silvery grey, with numerous bars and spots of brownish grey, each feather having a dark grey shaft, which is white underneath. The tail feathers on the upper surface are of a slightly lighter brown than the back, and light grey underneath, barred with more or less oblique bands, which are buff-coloured above, and light grey-brown underneath, and are all tipped with white. The under plumage of the body is creamy white, more or less tinged with light buff, especially on the sides of the head and throat. It is liberally streaked with longitudinal splashes of dark brown, which on the upper throat are very small, but on the lower flanks are broad and large. There is a facial patch and a moustache of dark brown, but these are not so strongly marked as in the peregrine and hobby. The beak is light blue, darkening to indigo, and at the tip to black. The cere and eyelids, light bluish grey. The legs and feet vary from light greenish or blueish grey to light yellow. The toes are long, thin, and flexible.

Adult females do not change, except that they lose much or all of the purplish sheen of nestlings, and that the edging of the feathers is less marked. Adult males undergo a very striking transformation. The whole upper plumage changes from brown to a rich bluish slate colour, deepening in the long wing feathers to greyish black. Instead of the light bars on the tail, there is a single broad grey-black band nearly at the extreme end. The breast at the same time assumes a warmer tint, deepening from cream colour at the chin to a rich buff lower down, and deep russet at the flanks. The cere, eyelids, legs, and feet assume a deep golden or light orange colour. The wing and tail feathers have a stronger and stiffer appearance than before the moult, and those of the tail are generally somewhat shorter as well as stouter than they were. Very old females occasionally, but not often, put on the livery of the adult male; and this is the case sometimes also with old female kestrels. In merlins of both sexes the third feather of the wing is usually exactly equal in length to the second, and it is only exceptionally that it is even fractionally shorter.

The name merlin is in orthodox phraseology reserved to the female merlin only, the male being more properly spoken of as a jack. The former, when exceptionally strong and courageous, may be flown with some success at partridges, and will also take house-pigeons and probably doves. They have been known to capture and kill wood-pigeons. Both sexes may be flown at quails, and are more deadly at this business than sparrow-hawks. In the wild state they kill blackbirds, thrushes, starlings, and almost all kinds of small birds, and the trained birds may be kept with more or less success to any one of these birds of quarry. It has been thought that a good cast of merlins might take snipe, and it is said that such a feat has been in former times achieved. With tropical snipe in an overfed or moulting condition, it is possible that this might still be done; but it is to be greatly doubted whether any trained merlin or merlins could take fully-moulted English snipe. The flight, however, for which merlins are usually reserved, and for which they are renowned, is that at moulting skylarks, and in this sport the jacks are very nearly as successful as their sisters, as will be seen in the chapter on lark-hawking. The merlin will follow her quarry when she can into covert; and when her victim is larger than herself, kills it by strangulation, gripping it tightly round the neck.

Indian Merlin (Falco chicquera)

This hawk, a little larger than the European merlin, is flown at much the same quarry, but also at rollers and hoopoes, which latter afford a fine ringing flight.

The African Merlin (F. ruficollis) has the markings on the breast closer together.

Kestrel (Falco tinnunculus)

Female—Length, about 13 inches; wing, 9; tail, 7. Male—Length, about 12 inches; wing, 8¼; tail, 6½.

Females and young males have the upper plumage reddish brown, transversely barred on the shoulders, wing coverts, and tail with black; the flight feathers, blackish brown; the under plumage, very pale fawn colour, streaked on the breast, and splashed on the lower part with brown. Adult males have the head, lower part of the back, and upper surface of tail, light slatey grey. The tail with a broad black band near the end, and tipped with white; and the head with dark shaft-streaks; the shoulders, upper back, and upper wing coverts, pale chestnut, with small black spots of a triangular shape. The wings, dark horn colour, with lighter edging. The under plumage, pale fawn colour, becoming more rufous at the lower part and on the thighs; streaked with dark brown splashes on the breast, and spots on the abdomen. The cere, feet, and legs are pale greyish yellow in the young, and brighter in the adult.

This little hawk has, structurally, all the characteristics of what the naturalists call a true falcon—more so, in fact, than the more highly reputed merlin. Its shape, indeed, but for a want of size in the feet and a somewhat exaggerated length of tail, is very symmetrical, and indicative of fine flying powers. It is the least shy and most familiar of all European hawks, and survives in tolerably large numbers throughout England, where, together with the owls, it is a chief agent in keeping down the inordinate increase of mice. Its powers of flight are very considerable; and it remains on the wing generally for a considerable part of the day, not soaring so much as beating the ground at a height of two or three score feet, and hovering from time to time with its eye on any small creature that may be moving about or hiding in the grass below. But notwithstanding its fine proportions, its muscular power is not great, and its extreme pace is not to be compared with that of the merlin. If pursued by a fairly good peregrine in a pretty open place, it frequently succumbs.

In the field a kestrel is of no practical use. It will indeed generally take sparrows and other small birds thrown up from the hand when it is waiting on. And instances have been known where it has flown and taken a few wild birds. There is even a story extant of an eyess kestrel which was flown at a young partridge and took it. But these facts, if true, must have been entirely exceptional. As a rule the trained kestrel refuses all wild quarry, and it has never been known to persevere in killing any. I am not sure whether a fair attempt has been made to fly her at rats, which would probably afford the best chance. But kestrels can be reclaimed and taught to fly to the lure in exactly the same way as the proudest peregrine or the most majestic ger. They will wait on beautifully, and stoop very prettily at the lure. And while at hack their movements are exceedingly lively and graceful. Thus for a beginner the kestrel is, in my opinion, undoubtedly the most suitable hawk upon which he can try his hand. In the breeding season eyesses may be procured pretty easily, and at an insignificant cost; and throughout the year many of both sexes are captured in the nets of bird-catchers, who would part with them readily for a few shillings if they were notified beforehand that any amateur would give a fair price for the captives. In reclaiming and manning a kestrel, in learning how to keep her feathers unbroken and clean, how to hood her, bathe her, house her, and weather her, and how to diet her, the tyro can very easily and cheaply acquire all that elementary knowledge of the difficult art of falconry which it is advisable that he should possess before he attempts to succeed in training and flying a valuable hawk. Whereas if, without any preliminary experience, he begins, as so many writers advise him, with an eyess merlin, he is almost certain to meet with a more or less discouraging failure. Far better to observe the old maxim, “Fiat experimentum in corpore vili.” Let the young falconer not attempt to run before he can walk fairly well. When he has taught his kestrel to wait on and stoop to the lure, and has either by preventive care or by successful imping got her in perfect plumage, let him feed her up and “whistle her down the wind” to shift for herself, and then consider himself qualified to make a more serious attempt with a sparrow-hawk, merlin, or peregrine.

TRAINED KESTREL “THUNDERBOLT”
OWNED BY MR. R. GARDNER

II. THE SHORT-WINGED HAWKS

Regarded from the falconer’s point of view, the short-winged hawk differs essentially from her more honourable cousin of the long wings in the following particulars. She cannot be taught to “wait on” in the air. Although she will on occasions stoop from above at her quarry, she does not habitually capture it by a downward stroke or blow, but by following it from behind and “trussing” or “binding” to it. She manifests her readiness to fly by a condition of body which is called by the quaint, and apparently Oriental, name of “yarak,” in which she shows evident signs of eagerness and excitement, and is obviously on the qui vive—attentive to every sight and sound which she may suppose to indicate the presence of quarry or the hope of a flight. She kills her quarry, when taken, by crushing it in her strong foot and piercing it with her long and sharp claws, or pounces. She follows her quarry, when it is possible, into covert; and when this is not possible she takes stand readily on some convenient resting-place, such as the branch of a tree, the top of a wall, or on her trainer’s fist. As a general rule she does not need to be kept to any one particular quarry, or flown at any particular time of day, but may be thrown off at anything, whether fur or feather, which she thinks she can take, and will do almost any amount of work at almost any hour.

It will thus be seen that though, from the purely artistic and sporting standpoint, the long-winged hawk deserves the more honourable place which has always been accorded to her in the most civilised countries, yet, taking the more material and matter-of-fact view of the matter, and regarded as a “pot-hunter,” the short-winged is at least equal to her in merit. There is, it is true, in the flight of the latter little of the grandeur and dramatic excitement which so often attend the efforts of the former. No silent pause while the pointer stands and the hawk mounts steadily to her lofty pride of place above him. No spiral climbing of quarry and hawk into the distant blue sky. No lightning descent, which in a second or two brings down the hawk from hundreds of yards high to within a few feet of her trainer’s head. But there is plenty of excitement of a different and not less healthy kind. The wary stalking of a shy quarry while the well-trained hawk on the fist trembles with eagerness for the chase. The rush and bustle of the start; the quick burst of riding or running to keep the chase in view; the hurry and scurry when the quarry has to be routed out from his place of refuge; the tussle for mastery when he has once been seized; and, last but not least, the abundance and variety of the bag which on a successful day is carried home.

One very great advantage attached to the short-winged hawk is that she can be flown in an enclosed country, or at least in places which are only very moderately open. Woods and forests are of course tabooed; and any land which is very undulating or very steep should be avoided. But the grass land and arable land which is commonly found in some four-fifths of the area of England, and especially that part of it which is not cut up into too small fields, is available, as well as the downs and commons, even though an occasional spinny or small plantation intrudes itself into the campaigning ground. Another merit of the short-winged hawk is that she is less likely to be lost. Trained as she is, or should be, upon missing her quarry, to come back to the falconer himself, and remain with him until her quarry is again actually on the wing, or, in the case of ground-game, on its legs, there is little temptation either to “rake away” or to “check.” Again, the length of the flights, counting each separate bout in the pursuit as a flight, is very much less; so that the falconer—or ostringer, to give him his correct name—has a far better chance of keeping in sight when the quarry is either taken or put in. Finally, neither of the species of short-winged hawks usually trained and flown is much addicted to the vice of “carrying”; and thus the risk of losing a hawk or wasting valuable time by reason of this vexatious habit is much less to be feared. It should perhaps be added that constant exercise is less necessary for a short-winged than for a long-winged hawk, as the former may be left idle for considerable periods, and when brought into yarak again seems to have lost little if any of her speed or her merits.

At the same time, the temper and disposition of the short-winged hawks are undeniably worse at the first than those of the long-winged. Both goshawks and sparrow-hawks, whether eyesses or wild caught, are naturally suspicious and mistrustful of mankind. They are easily alarmed, and very ready to take offence, and, once alienated or frightened, can with difficulty be conciliated. Savage and vindictive by nature and habit, they are subject to almost ungovernable fits of rage and sulkiness, which can only be subdued and guarded against by the exercise of much patience and good temper on the part of the trainer. They are jealous and cruel, and cannot, as a rule, be flown in company with other hawks, even of their own species and sex. Once lost for any considerable time they resort to their wild habits, and are difficult to recapture. Unless carefully dieted they are very subject to apoplectic fits. Their long tails, although flexible and elastic under moderate pressure, will not always stand a very severe strain, and are likely, in a serious struggle either with any big quarry or with an awkward trainer, to be broken. The short-winged hawks should generally be belled on the tail. They are apt sometimes to crouch down on their quarry when taken, in which case a bell on the leg is hardly sounded. Besides this, if flown when snow is on the ground, the snow will choke the bell and make it useless.

Taking the whole world over, the families of the goshawks and sparrow-hawks, which practically merge into one another, are very extensive, comprising more than thirty species, many of which could without doubt be pressed into the service of man. Only three of these have, however, commonly been trained.

Goshawk (Astur palumbarius)

Female—Length, 22 to 24 inches; wing, 12½ to 13½; tail, 10 to 12; tarsus, about 3.5. Male—Length, 19½ to 21½ inches; wing, 10¼ to 12½; tail, 9 to 10; tarsus, about 3.

Females and young males have the upper plumage a dull liver brown, broadly margined and barred with much lighter brown; the tail, barred with five broad bands, dark brown. The under surface of the tail is pale whitish grey, with five bands of dark brownish grey. The rest of the under plumage is pale or rusty cream colour, tinted more or less faintly with salmon pink, and streaked irregularly on the breast and flanks with longitudinal patches or splashes of dark brown. The cere and legs are greenish yellow. The eyes are very light, and clear yellowish grey, and so bright that the Greeks gave to this hawk the name of

ἁστερἱας ἱερἁξ, the star-eyed hawk. Adult males have a decided grey tint on the upper and under plumage. At the first moult both sexes change the longitudinal streaks on the breast, thighs, and flanks into more or less irregular bars of dark greyish brown; and as they grow older the bars usually become narrower and more regular. The tail is now barred on both surfaces with four broad bands of dark brown or grey. The cere, legs, and feet become yellow; and the eyes change to a deeper yellow, and ultimately to deeper and darker orange.

Goshawks vary greatly in size and strength. Those which are imported from Norway are often exceptionally big and strong, while the specimens from Germany and Central Europe have a reputation for weakness. Although this hawk formerly bred commonly in England, it is now practically extinct; but some nests are still annually found in France.

The list of quarry at which the goshawk may be flown is very large, including, for the British islands, hares, rabbits, stoats, weasels, squirrels, and rats; herons and wild ducks—flown as they rise—pheasants, partridges, landrails, water-hens, jays, and an occasional magpie or wood-pigeon. In fact, any moderate-sized bird which gets up close in front of a goshawk must bustle himself if he intends to escape the first quick dash of this impetuous and greedy pursuer.

In India and other tropical countries the female “goss” will fly, with a good start, at crows, neophrons, minas, florikin, francolin, jungle-fowl, and even such big birds as kites, geese, cranes, and pea-fowl. Even in England she was formerly flown with success at cranes, wild geese, and other large water-fowl; and the old books contain elaborate directions as to stalking these birds “with grey goshawk on hand.” In some parts of Asia goshawks are said to have been flown at ravine deer and bustard; but this would probably be with some assistance from dogs.

The male goshawk, much smaller in size than his sisters, is less valuable to the sportsman, but is usually accounted rather swifter on the wing. The best specimens will catch a partridge in fair flight; and most of them, with a tolerably good start, will overtake a pheasant. A very strong male will sometimes catch and hold a full-grown rabbit, and the others may be expected to kill half-grown rabbits and leverets, if kept to such quarry. Landrails and water-hens make a more or less easy flight. Jays and magpies may sometimes be taken, as well as blackbirds. Rats, weasels, squirrels, and “such small deer” are, of course, available. Occasional specimens of the male goshawk are extraordinarily fast and strong. Colonel Delmé Radcliffe had one which actually killed grouse in Scotland, and another which took storks and geese in India, as well as partridges.

Sparrow-Hawk (Accipiter nisus)

Female—Length, 14 to 16 inches; wing, 8½ to 9½; tail, 7½ to 7¾; tarsus, 2.4. Male—Length, 11½ to 12½ inches; wing, 7½ to 8¼; tail, 6 to 6½; tarsus, 2.1.

The sparrow-hawk is remarkable for its very long and slender legs and middle toe, and its small head. Young females have the beak and upper plumage sepia brown, each feather edged with rufous brown; the nape varied with white or rufous white. The wing feathers are dark brown, with five bars of still darker brown on the outer primaries. The tail rather lighter brown, with five dark brown bars. The under plumage is dull white, more or less tinged with rufous, spotted with irregular patches, streaks, or bars of greyish brown. In the adult the brown of the upper plumage assumes a slatey grey hue, and the edgings of lighter colour vanish. The breast and under parts are barred with transverse markings of mixed fulvous and brown, and develop a rusty red colouring on the abdomen and inner thighs. The legs and feet become more distinctly yellow or gold colour, and the eye deepens in colour to light and ultimately to dark orange. Males in the immature plumage differ from females only in having a somewhat more rufous hue on the lighter part. But after the moult this rufous colouring becomes still more conspicuous, and spreads to the flanks and under surface of the wings, as well as to the upper throat. In both sexes the bars on the breast and thighs become narrower and of a fainter grey as the birds grow older; and the eyes deepen in colour.

Female sparrow-hawks—very much bigger and stronger than their brothers—may be flown at any bird of the size of a partridge, or smaller, which is not very swift or quick in shifting. In the wild state they undoubtedly kill a certain number of wood-pigeons, taking them at some disadvantage, as, for instance, when they pass under a tree in which the hawk is at perch. Probably the wild sparrow-hawk also picks up an occasional peewit, snipe, or woodcock. She is fond of young pheasants, which she will pick up from the ground when insufficiently guarded by the mother or foster-mother. Young chickens sometimes undergo the same fate under similar circumstances. The uses of the trained sparrow-hawk, both male and female, are described in the chapter devoted to this hawk.

Besra Sparrow-Hawk (Accipiter virgatus)

This species, considerably smaller than A. nisus, is very common in the tropics, both in the wild and in the trained state, and is thought by many to be quite equal, if not superior, to it in courage and ability.

Other sparrow-hawks which may be trained include the large species called the Levant sparrow-hawk (A. brevipes), A. minullus and A. tinus, from South America, A. cirrocephalus, from Australia, A. badius, and the miniature A. polyzonoides.

III. THE EAGLES

In Western Europe no great use seems to have been made by the old falconers of any kind of eagle. D’Arcussia in the early editions of his book makes no reference to them as objects of the trainer’s care, and some of the early English authors expressly speak of them as useless to the falconer by reason of their great weight, making it impossible, as they believed, to carry them on the fist, and also their powers of fasting, which, they supposed, precluded all chance of reducing them to proper obedience. In the East, however, they have from time immemorial been trained with success, and flown at a great variety of quarry suitable to their size and strength. For the far greater part of the knowledge which we now have about flights with eagles, we are indebted to Mr. J. E. Harting, who obtained much valuable information on this subject from the late Mr. Constantine Haller, an enthusiastic falconer, and president of a Russian falconry club which had its headquarters at St. Petersburg in 1884-85. Notwithstanding the efforts of these two very competent authorities, it is still exceedingly difficult to say with any certainty what sorts of eagles are now employed by the Kirghis and Turcomans and other Asiatic peoples, and what other sorts are regarded as unserviceable. As to the golden eagle and Bonelli’s eagle there is no doubt; but the evidence as to the others below-mentioned cannot be said to be at all conclusive.

The speed of the eagles in ordinary flying is inferior to that of the hawks, though superior to that of any quadruped at his best pace. Their usual mode of capturing their prey when in the wild state, is by soaring and scanning the ground below, and, when they see a good chance, dropping with a powerful stoop on to the back or head of the victim. In training they cannot be made to wait on, and must therefore be flown from the fist, so that winged game of all kinds is usually able to show them, if not “a clean pair of heels,” at least a clean set of tail feathers. Consequently their quarry consists almost entirely of four-legged creatures. Large birds of various descriptions might be flown at when they are on the ground, and might be taken before they had time to get fairly on the wing; but such masquerades of real hawking can hardly be called flights.

The golden eagle, and most other eagles, are naturally more or less ill-tempered, and require the exercise of considerable patience on the part of the man who undertakes to reclaim them; but the method employed differs in no material respect from that applied to the short-winged hawk. Only, when a goshawk or sparrow-hawk is once properly reclaimed and manned, she generally says good-bye to her bad temper. The eagle is said to be sometimes apt, even when fully trained, to become so enraged, either at missing her quarry or by some other contretemps, that she will attack the men of the party, and perhaps have a flight at a native just by way of a relief to her outraged feelings.

Eagles are carried to and in the field on a crutch, which is formed of an upright pole with a cross-bar at the top, the lower end of the apparatus being fitted into the saddle, and the staff of it attached by a strap to the rider’s girdle. The lure, to which they are called when they do not come back to the crutch, consists of the stuffed skin of an animal made to resemble the quarry at which they are meant to fly.

The following are the eagles best fitted for training:—

Golden Eagle (Aquila chrysaetus)

Female—Length, about 35 inches; wing, about 27½; tail, about 14; tarsus, 3.8. Male—Length, about 32 inches; wing, 24½; tail, 13; tarsus, 3.7.

The plumage is generally of a ruddy brown or fawn, inclining in parts to dark brown, and in others to dull brownish gold. Adult females become very dark, and males also assume a more dusky hue as they grow older.

Of the fact that the golden eagle is now and has been for centuries commonly trained and flown in Central Asia there is no manner of doubt. Many excellent authorities maintain that it is the species used by the Kirghis and other tribes subject or tributary to Russia under the name of Kholsan. This was also the opinion of M. Paul Gervais, who became the owner of a veritable Kholsan, imported into France by M. Maichin, who purchased it from the Kirghis for £40 and a gun. This trained eagle, which was a female, would take foxes well, and after binding to them was accustomed to grip them by the fore part of the mask, thus obviating the chance of a dangerous bite. In Central Asia the Kholsan is flown at bustard, hare, fox, and antelope; and the females will tackle such heavy quarry as wild goat, wolf, and even wild boar.

Berkute (Aquila nobilis)

About the identity of this species there is even more doubt than about the Kholsan. Mr. Harting inclines to the view that it is no more than a golden eagle in a different phase of its plumage. Others suppose that it is the imperial eagle, and others again regard it as Bonelli’s eagle. It appears that in the Russian provinces of Asia it is still more commonly used than the Kholsan, and at much the same quarry, which would suggest the conclusion that it is not at any rate a larger bird than A. Bonellii.

White-Crowned Eagle (Haliætus leucoryphus)

A specimen was owned by a Russian falconer, who found it worth while to keep it over two moults, and must have taken a favourable view of its merits.

Spotted Eagle (Aquila clanga or nævia)

This large eagle is trained by the Kirghis, under the name of Kara Gush, i.e. black eagle.

Imperial Eagle (Aquila imperialis)

This is a smaller eagle than A. chrysaetus, the female measuring about 32 inches and the male about 31. It appears to be susceptible of training, and is thought by many to be included in the list of eagles commonly used in Turkestan. It is found throughout the greater part of Asia, and occasionally in South-Eastern Europe.

Steppe Eagle (Aquila nipalensis)

This bird is described by some naturalists as a hawk-eagle. It is of a taking and sportsmanlike appearance, the eyes of old specimens being of a fiery yellow, though in young birds they are dull grey. Colonel D. Radcliffe obtained several specimens in India, both eyess and wild caught. He says that in the wild state it takes pine martens and also the musk deer.

Bonelli’s Eagle (Aquila Bonellii)

Female—Length, 26½ inches; wing, 18¼; tail, 11½; tarsus, 4. Male—Length, 24½ inches; wing, 17½; tail, 11¼; tarsus, 3.9.

This small and rather long-legged eagle is probably the easiest to train, and the best for purposes of falconry in Europe, as it is of a more handy size than the bigger species, and strong enough for all practical purposes. A trained specimen was kept and flown by M. Barachin in France at hares and rabbits. It is described by Canon Tristram as a more dainty feeder than most of the eagles; and Mr. Hume says that in the wild state it kills many water-fowl. The tail is barred. The weight of the male hardly exceeds 4 lbs.

In concluding the list it must be observed that several birds which might have been comprised in it are omitted. The Chinese and Japanese falconers of bygone times undoubtedly trained hawks which are figured in their books, but cannot now be identified. Falconry is extinct in Japan, and nearly so in China. The hawks themselves, which were once highly honoured in their country, will probably before long be exterminated by the ever-increasing horde of skin-collectors.

Some readers may be surprised at the exclusion from this list of some such birds as vultures, buzzards, and even some owls. These I have designedly omitted. I find in a work called the Natural History Picture-Book a statement by Mr. Wood, that the kite (Milvus regalis) “has even been trained for purposes of falconry, and found to perform its task to the satisfaction of its owner.” Either the owner must have been very easily pleased, or the kite must have changed very greatly in disposition and habits within the last few centuries! With shrikes the case is different, for it appears that they were actually trained to fly at small birds. D’Arcussia tells us plainly that amongst the numerous hawking establishments kept up by Louis XIII. was one of shrikes, and relates a very quaint story of one of these little birds owned by the king, which would fly up to a heron on the wing and whisper in his ear!

Several of the falconets might certainly be utilised in the field, and amongst them especially Feilden’s falcon, which is very common, very bold, and very tame. Indeed, some of the Malays are said to train these little hawks. Davison says that he has seen the black-legged falconet (Hierax fringillarius) stoop at a rock-thrush, and killed one on a partly-plucked swallow. Other likely varieties are the white-legged and red-legged falconets (H. melanoleucus and H. cœrulescens).

There can be little doubt that such birds as fly-catchers could be trained and flown at butterflies; and possibly, when the naturalists and Cockney sportsmen and egg-collectors have succeeded by their united efforts in exterminating all hawks, our descendants may resort to this form of sport as their best substitute for falconry as we now know it.

[CHAPTER III]

Furniture and Fittings

Before the intending falconer takes any preliminary steps even towards becoming the owner of a hawk, he must make himself thoroughly familiar with the necessary appliances which he will have to use, and first of all with the hawk’s furniture, or articles of attire and daily use.

The “jess” (or jesse) by which the hawk’s feet are secured is a strip of leather fastened round the leg, just above the foot. It is, of course, of a different length, width, and stoutness, according to the size of the wearer. For a peregrine or ger the same stuff may be used as for strong riding or driving gloves; and the softer and more pliable it can be, consistently with strength, the better. For a gerfalcon 8 in. is not too long. For a peregrine tiercel 6½ in. is long enough, and for hawks of intermediate size the length may vary according to their proportions. In the case of the smaller hawks, from the female sparrow-hawk to the tiny jack-merlin, the length for ordinary purposes should be from 4½ in. to 6½ in. But when a jack-merlin is flying ringing larks late in the season, or indeed at any time, and it is important that he should carry the very smallest possible amount of extra luggage, his jesses may be made out of a thin kid glove, well stretched and greased, and need not be more than 3½ in. long, by ¼ in. wide, bulging out to ⅓ in. at the place where they encircle the leg, and at the other end, where they are hooked to the swivel. In all cases the jess is attached in the same way. After it has been well stretched and greased, a short slit is made near the broader end of the leather (see [Fig. 1]), and another a little farther down. The distance between the two slits should be about the same as the circumference of the hawk’s leg—not greater, nor much less. This part of the leather between the two slits is applied to the hawk’s leg, and the shorter end, being brought round the leg, is pushed through the second slit as far as it will go. Then the longer end is in its turn passed through the first slit and pulled tight. Some falconers pass the long end of the jess through both slits before pulling it tight; but the reason for this extra precaution has never been made plain. After the long end has been pulled through—or before, if preferred—a hole is punched in the leather at a short distance from the tip, and another and larger slit is made for the purpose of attaching the jess to the swivel. But if the hawk is destined, immediately after the jesses have been put on, to be turned out to hack, this end slit is not required, and should never be made, as it is possible that it might loop itself round some thorn or other peg-like object, and hang up the hawk, causing her death or some irreparable injury. Whenever a jess is released from the swivel, it is a good plan, when there is time, to twirl up the end, rolling it between the finger and thumb, so that the slit does not form a loop. It is then less likely, in case of the hawk being lost, to lead to a misfortune of the kind referred to.

HAWK’S FURNITURE, I.
1. JESS 2. BELL 3. HAWK’S FOOT WITH BELL AND JESS ATTACHED 4. BELL FOR TAIL OF SHORT-WINGED HAWK 5. BEWIT 6. RING SWIVEL 7. SPRING SWIVEL 8. LEASH, SWIVEL AND JESSES 9. FALCONER’S KNOT 10. ATTACHMENT OF LEASH TO POLE, PERCH OR CADGE

Trained hawks always wear jesses. As soon as one pair is worn, and shows signs of weakness, another pair should be put on; and after they are attached, the old ones may be cut off with a sharp knife or scissors and thrown away. Valuable hawks have been lost by the owner’s neglect to renew the jesses. Of course it usually happens that one of a pair wears out before the other, and the breaking of the weakest gives warning before the other has given way. But when one jess has become so dilapidated as to be on the point of breaking, his fellow will not be in a much better case, and a jerk caused by suddenly bating at the block, especially when sitting there after a bath, may liberate the hawk when you feel least prepared for such a mishap. The old falconers seem to have almost always attached the ends of the jesses to “varvels,” which were small rings of silver, or other metal, upon which often the name and address of the owner were engraved. Possibly the jesses so used were very short, so that the risk of “hooking up” did not arise. But the practice has long been abandoned by European falconers.

Bells for trained hawks are of the greatest possible use. They betray the whereabouts of the wearer, and save an infinity of time and trouble when she has killed out of sight; and besides this, they proclaim to every stranger who sees a lost hawk on the wing that she is private property, and not wild. They are, practically, no impediment to the hawk’s flight, except in the case of the very smallest species; and their sound probably augments the terror inspired in the quarry by a stoop that has only just missed its mark. Bells have been used in all countries from time immemorial. The best are now made in India; but for the larger hawks, those supplied by Mr. Möllen, at Valkenswaard, in Holland, are good enough, and very cheap. The European bells are spherical, with a plain flat shank ([Fig. 2]), and those of Indian manufacture are of the shape shown in the illustration ([Fig. 3]). Anciently, silver was much used for bells for the more valuable hawks, but the metal now used is chiefly brass. A good bell should be capable of being heard distinctly on a still day more than a quarter of a mile, even if lightly moved. The bell is attached to the hawk’s leg by a “bewit,” which is fastened on in the same way as the jess. The bewit is a small strip of leather shaped as in [Fig. 5]. It is pulled through the shank of the bell until the latter is at the place indicated by the dotted line near the middle. The shank is applied to the hawk’s leg above the jess, and the end (A) is passed round the leg and pushed through the slit (B). Then the thicker end is pushed through the slit at the thin end, and pulled till the ears or jags at the side have come through the opening. These then act as barbs to prevent the end slipping back, and the thin part of it can be cut off. Hack bells are used not only to give notice where the hawk is, but also to serve as a weight to handicap her when, at the end of her time of liberty, she begins to chase chance quarry. They are therefore much bigger, in proportion to the size of the wearer, than the bells used in the field. A falcon’s or tiercel’s bell will not be too big for a merlin or jack. Sometimes hawks' bells are even loaded with lead. A merlin which is flying ringing larks does not wear bells, for it is impossible to get any which are sufficiently light, and at the same time loud enough to be of any use.

Short-winged hawks should generally be belled on the tail, and for this purpose the bewits should be of a different shape, as in [Fig. 4]. The aperture on each side of the bewit should be made to encircle the shaft of one of the “deck” feathers, that is, the central feathers of the tail, near to its base; and the double ends (C, C) should be lapped or tied together with waxed thread, so that the fastening cannot slip from its place.

Of course when it is intended to put on new jesses or bewits, the hawk must be “cast,” or held. And some considerable attention is required to cast a hawk properly. To seize an unhooded hawk, especially short-winged, and forcibly thrust her down on her breast would constitute, in her eyes, a deadly and perhaps unpardonable offence. To meddle with her when she has a full crop would be a great mistake. A time should be chosen when she has little or nothing in her crop. She should be hooded and held on the fist, while on the “operating table” is placed a cushion and the apparatus required, including tweezers and a sharp penknife. Then a silk handkerchief, once folded, can be thrown over the hawk’s shoulders, and the falconer’s assistant, standing behind the hawk with his hands over her back, the thumbs close to her back-bone, will, with a quick steady lowering of the palms, grasp her firmly round the body, with the fingers enclosing the sides of her wings and thighs. Lifting her off the fist, he must deposit her on the cushion, holding her down steadily on her breast. A man should be employed for this purpose who is not likely to be nervous or flurried.

The jesses are made fast to the swivel when the hawk is not intended to fly; and swivels are of two kinds. The safest (and the most troublesome to put on and take off) is the ring-swivel ([Fig. 6]), consisting of a double ring in the shape of a figure 8, each end working freely on a pivot which keeps the two rings close together. It is made of brass or iron, and very good and cheap ones are to be had from Mr. Möllen, of Valkenswaard, in North Brabant. To attach the ring-swivel to the jesses, pass the end of one jess from right to left through one of the rings, and, after it is through, pass both rings through the slit in the jess, and pull tight. When the first jess is fast, pass the end of the other jess through the same ring upon which the first jess is fastened, but in the opposite direction, from left to right, and then pass the two rings through the slit as before. The second jess will pull up tight over the first, and both will be fixed firmly at the outer end of the same ring.

To get the ring-swivel off, the extreme end of the jess which was last put on must be pulled until that jess becomes slack enough for the two rings to be passed through it, or, in other words, for the opening in the leather to be pulled over the rings, and, this being done, it will come away at once. After releasing one jess, take care to hold it tight between the fingers of the left hand while freeing the other jess. Otherwise, if the hawk is fidgety and jumps off, she may jerk the other jess out of your hand, and go off bodily, leash and all, into the next parish.

Spring-swivels ([Fig. 7]) are very handy contrivances for use in the field, but not so safe for a hawk when sitting unhooded on the perch or at the block. They are shaped like the swivel by which watches are usually attached to a watch-chain, and must be so made as to turn quite freely on the pivot. To attach them to the jesses, nothing more is required than to press the side with the thumb-nail, making the spring yield, and then hook the curved end through the slit in both jesses, after which the spring is released, and the jesses remain encircled by the metal. Only, if the spring is stiff or does not work properly, there will be disasters. The unhooking process is of course even more easily and quickly effected.

The leash can now be attached to the swivel. And leashes, again, may be of two kinds. The orthodox leash for peregrines and big hawks is a strip of tough leather, about half an inch wide, and a yard long, provided with a stout button at one end, which is made in the following way:—In cutting the leash, three inches or so at one end are cut rather broader than the rest of the strip. This broad end is then rolled up tightly by doubling it over and over upon itself. After the broad part has been rolled up, a hole is punched right through the roll, and the other end of the leash, which is tapered to a point, is pushed through and pulled tight. A sort of square button will thus be formed at the thick end of the leash ([Fig. 8]); and if the thin end of it is passed through the outer ring of the swivel—that ring to which the jesses are not attached—it will run right through until the ring encounters the button, which is too big to get past. The whole length of the leash is then available for the purpose of tying up the hawk to her block, or to a peg in the ground.

There is a right and a wrong way about even so simple a matter as tying up a hawk. Blocks and pegs ought always to be provided with a ring or staple, round which to tie the leash; and it should be tied in what is called a falconer’s knot, which can easily be negotiated with one hand. To begin with, pass the thin end of the leash through the ring. Then make a loop in the part which has gone through the ring, and pass the loop round that part of the leash which has not gone through the ring. Pull tight, and the leash will assume an appearance resembling that shown in [Fig. 9]. Next pass the end (A) through the loop (B), and again pull tight. It will be impossible for any strain upon the leash at C to undo the knot. And when it is desired to undo it, the end (A) can easily be picked out with the fingers through the tightened loop (B), and a simple pull upon A will then undo the whole fastening.

For attaching hawks to the screen-perch, a sort of double falconer’s knot is required for fastening the two ends of the leash round the pole. But it is learnt with the greatest ease. Nothing more is necessary than to take the two ends of the leash—the thick and the thin—and pass one over and one under the pole. Then tie them together, just as if you were tying a black necktie, except that you make only one bow instead of two. Let this one bow, when the knot is pulled tight, be about four inches long; and through the loop formed by it pass the two ends of the leash, which will naturally be found on the reverse side of the knot ([Fig. 10]). When the hawk is carried on the fist, the ends of the jesses, the swivel, and button of the leash will often lie in the palm of the left hand. The leash will hang down for some inches, perhaps a foot, and then, forming a loop, be gathered up to the little finger, round which the lower part, a few inches from the thin end, is wound for the sake of extra security.

Smaller leashes in the same style, but made of less stout leather, can very well be used for the smaller hawks, and usually are so. But when these hawks are doing a great deal of flying, as they should, and doing it twice a day, the trouble of constantly unfastening the ring-swivel from the jesses and fastening it on again becomes very tiresome, and even vexatious; and it is a common practice to use spring-swivels permanently. The outer ring of these (unless they are made specially) is too small to admit the passage of a flat leash; and it will be found more convenient to use thongs shaped like a porpoise-hide boot-lace. In fact a long leather boot-lace makes about as good a leash as can be wished for. The function of the button is fulfilled by a simple knot tied in the end of the lace. Or in order to save still more time, the lace may be permanently attached to the spring-swivel in the manner shown in the diagram ([Fig. 25]). By making the knot an inch or two away from the ring of the swivel, instead of close up to it, enough length of tether is left, when the leash is tied round the pole, to enable a merlin or sparrow-hawk in short “racing jesses” to shift about a bit on the perch.

The proper place for a hawk, when not out of doors, is the screen-perch ([Fig. 23]). The bar on which the hawk stands may run from wall to wall of the hawk-house, or, if this is not convenient, it may be supported on arms or brackets reaching out from the wall to a distance of not less than 30 in. for a big hawk, or 2 ft. for a little one. Where this arrangement is also impossible the bar may be supported at each end on a post or tressels so securely fastened or weighted that they cannot be upset or moved out of place. Round the bar, which should be of wood, is wrapped a padding of baize or other soft stuff, and over it a covering of canvas stretched very tight. The canvas may be nailed to the pole, or stitched together, on the under side. A screen, or curtain, of canvas must be attached to the under side of the perch, and hang down from it for more than two feet, to form a sort of ladder, by which any hawk may climb up again as often as she bates off and hangs by her leash and swivel. The ends of this screen may be kept down with weights attached to it, or stretched by a sort of guy ropes from the lower corners, so as to keep the whole flat and taut. In perches for small hawks, the same canvas which is rolled round the pole is often allowed to hang down and form the screen. In this case slits or holes are made in the canvas just below the pole, through which the leashes may be passed when fastening the hawks to the perch. A space of at least 2 ft. should be left between each big hawk and that which stands next her on the perch; and 18 in. between each of the small ones; and there should be rather more space between the end hawk and the wall or the bracket of the perch, whichever it is.

Underneath the perch must be spread a good thick layer of sand or sawdust, extending in the case of peregrines and gers for a good yard on each side of the perch, and about 18 in. in the case of the smaller long-winged hawks, to catch the mutes. As for short-winged hawks, the layer must be very much farther extended, and in the case of goshawks should reach at least three yards from the perch. And if the perch is near a wall, the wall itself must be protected by a shield of paper, or other cheap material which can be changed every other day, for these hawks “slice” to a very great distance almost horizontally. The sand or sawdust must either be removed daily, or at least freed from the mutes which have fallen into it. In or near it will also be found the “castings,” or pellets of refuse feathers and other indigestible matter thrown up by the hawks. These castings should be looked for every morning by the falconer, and each one should be examined before it is thrown away, as it is by the appearance of them, as will be seen later on, that the state of health of each hawk is to a large extent ascertained. Both castings and mutes, with the sand or sawdust adhering to them, should, when collected, be immediately removed from the hawk-house. A dirty or ill-smelling room is not only a disgrace to the falconer, but injurious to the inmates, which, though possessed of no sense of smell, require the purest possible air to breathe.

HAWK’S FURNITURE, II.
BLOCKS AND PERCHES
11. PLAIN BLOCK FOR LONG-WINGED HAWK 12. BLOCK FOR SAKER, MERLIN, ETC. 13, 14. IMPROVED BLOCK FOR LARGE AND SMALL HAWK 15. SPIKE FOR BLOCK 16. RING PEG 17, 18. BLOCKS WITH CORK TOP 19. FIELD BLOCK 20, 21. BOW-PERCHES 22. CRUTCH-PERCH 23. SCREEN-PERCH

For out-door service, blocks are used for the long-winged hawks, and bow-perches for the short-winged. Blocks are of various shapes, as shown in the illustration. The simplest are made of mere chunks of tree or sapling sawn off level ([Fig. 11]), and having a staple of iron or brass driven into the top or at the side, to which to attach the leash. They should be from 8 inches to a foot in height for a peregrine or ger, and for all other hawks of such a height that when the hawk is standing on them her tail may just clear the tops of the blades of grass. A high block is not good; for then the leash, if it is not to catch in the shoulder, must be a long one, and when the hawk bates she will be brought up with a too sudden jerk as the leash tightens. For the smaller falcons—hobbies, merlins, and kestrels—as well as for sakers and lanners, the block should always be larger at the top than at the bottom, so that it may not be fouled on the sides with the mutes (see Figs. [12], [14]). It is a very good plan to have a groove made round the body of the block, and to have a metal ring fitted round it, so that it will run freely in the groove. This hoop of metal may be looped out into a smaller ring on one side, to which the leash may be tied (see Figs. [13], [14]). As the hawk jumps off to one side or the other the ring will run round; and thus all risk is avoided of the leash getting hitched up or wound round the block. A spike ([Fig. 15]) is firmly fixed into the middle of the base of the block to hold it fast in the ground. Of course a block which is larger at the base than on the top may be used without a spike, and without any ring or staple in it, if the leash is fastened to a ring-peg ([Fig. 16]) in the ground. But even if this peg is driven in on the windward side of the block, that is, on the side towards which the hawk is pretty sure to bate off, the risk of entanglement is not wholly avoided; and a hawk so attached should not be left alone for long. The top of the block should be covered with cork ([Fig. 17]), or it may be padded and covered with leather. But in the latter case it must not be left out in the rain. Wood is too hard for hawks to stand on for any length of time, and is apt to give them corns or sore feet. No hawk should be allowed to stand on a wet block. A simple and not a bad plan for making merlins’ blocks, is to saw off a chunk from a pole or tree branch, about 2½ in. in diameter and 5 or 6 in. long. Into one end insert a spike, and on to the other nail a 4-in. or 5-in. bung ([Fig. 18]). A 4-in. metal curtain-ring, measured from outside to outside, can be placed on the ground and the spike driven into the earth in the middle of the ring, which will run freely round the block when the leash is attached to it. Care must always be taken to drive the block well home to the ground, or the leash may get jammed under its lower edge, and cause a dire mishap. [Fig. 19] is a little field block which I use for merlins. It can be carried in a side-pocket when out on the open downs. After one of these little hawks has done her day’s flying, or before her turn comes, instead of putting her, hooded, on the pole cadge, her leash is made fast to the looped creance, which comes from a ring in the top of the block. The spike is driven into the ground in a sheltered spot, and the hawk is deposited on the top of the pigmy post, where she will sit, if not exactly “like patience on a monument,” at least more comfortably than if merely pegged out on the prickly grass or still more uninviting stubble.

Bow-perches for goshawks and sparrow-hawks may be made by simply bending a length of yew or other tough wood into the shape of an arch, and sticking the two sharpened ends into the ground ([Fig. 20]). A more elaborate apparatus made of iron, with three spikes and a padded top, is shown in [Fig. 21]. In any case it is proper to pad the uppermost part of the arch. The ring for the leash runs loosely on the outer frame of the perch. The crutch-like perch shown in [Fig. 22] is simple, and has its merits. Probably for an eagle it is the best resting-place that could be provided. When fixing up bow-perches or crutch-perches care should be taken that they are placed broadside on to the wind, so that the hawk as she takes perch on them may directly face the wind. It is perhaps needless to say that for an eagle the spike should be very long, and hammered deep into the ground.

The hood, or to speak more exactly, the hood proper, is an article of attire with which every educated person is vaguely familiar. The exact shape is shown in [Fig. 24]. It is made of stiffish leather, fashioned on a wooden block made of the size and shape of the hawk for which it is intended, and stitched together. Some amateurs have arrived at a certain proficiency in making their own hoods. Captain Salvin, for instance, could manufacture very good ones. But such excellent hoods can be obtained from Mr. Möllen, for all sorts of hawks, at so small a price, that it is scarcely worth while to be at the trouble of making them. The hooding of hawks is an art in itself, and will be referred to in a later chapter. When the hood is well on the hawk’s head and the beak well through the opening in front, the longer and thinner of the braces at the back (A, A) are pulled apart, and the back of the hood is thus drawn tight, so that it is impossible to remove it. The shorter and stouter ends are pulled when it is desired to slacken the fastening, so that the hood can be taken off by lifting the plume forwards. Usually each of these operations is performed with the aid of the right hand and the teeth. As the hawk stands on the falconer’s left fist with her tail outwards over his knuckles, he takes hold with his right finger and thumb of the brace which is on the hawk’s left side, and then catches hold with his front teeth of the brace which is on the hawk’s right side. A sharp pull brings the ends apart, and the hood is braced up or slackened, as the case may be. Before any hood is ever put on, the falconer should remember to look inside it to see that no dust or dirt or stray feathers or anything else has found its way in, and it is as well to blow a puff of air into it to clear it of any particle of dust.

HAWK’S FURNITURE, III.
24. HOOD-PROPER 25. SPRING SWIVEL AND LEASH FOR SMALL HAWK 26, 27. DOUBLE RING LEASH 28. BRAIL

The rufter-hood is made of much softer leather, with no plume, and a simpler fastening. It is used for newly-caught hawks, and hardly need be described in detail, as before the beginner has occasion for it he will have learnt more about hoods than can be taught in any book. Indian hoods are also made of softer leather, with a different and smaller plume. They are fastened by braces which run round the lower side, passing in and out of the leather and working by friction.

This completes the list of ordinary hawk’s furniture. But there are a few other appliances with which the beginner must become familiar before he can undertake to train, or even to keep, a hawk.

A brail ([Fig. 28]) is a sort of manacle for an unmanageable hawk, which keeps on bating and fidgeting with her wings. It consists of a narrow strip of fine soft leather, having a slit two or three inches long down the middle. Into this slit is inserted the pinion joint of the hawk’s closed wing. The upper end of the brail will then of course extend upwards over her back, and the lower will hang downwards by her side. Now take the upper end and pass it down under the under part of her wing between it and her ribs. Pass the lower end in the contrary direction upwards under the under side of the same wing. The two ends will now be pointing in the opposite direction to that first described. Next bring them together on the outside of the wing, and tie in a plain bow-knot, making the bows very short and passing the single ends through them. The hawk will be unable to open the wing, which will be to all intents and purposes as useless to her, as long as the brail is on, as if all the flight feathers in it had been cut.

A bath must always be offered to a trained hawk at least twice a week, and oftener in fine and warm weather. And it is not a thing which can always be improvised very easily. The best baths are sunk in the ground, so that there are no upstanding sides round or under which a leash can get entangled. But of course, unless great care is taken, the ground round the edges of such a bath is apt to become slushy and dirty, if much used. Whenever it is impossible to sink the bath in the earth it is necessary that some person should be at hand when the hawks are bathing, so that if the leash gets entangled he may come to the rescue.

Many hawks have a tiresome way of jumping on and off the sides of the bath, and running round it—in fact, as Winchester boys say, “funking on the bank”—in complete oblivion of the fact that they are thereby hitching up their leashes. For such hawks it is best to take off the leash and substitute a creance three or four yards long, attaching the end of this to the block on which they are deposited at the side of the bath. All baths should be of a sufficient size. For gers they should be nearly a foot deep at least, and well over a yard in diameter. For the smallest jack-merlin they should be not less than four inches deep. A hawk will not fully enjoy her bath unless she can wade into it, if she chooses, up to her shoulders and over. In shallow water she is more or less uncomfortable. Like Alexander the Great, in the small world of antiquity, æstuat infelix angusto in limite; and her back and the nape of her neck are never properly wetted, however much she may splash about in the endeavour to throw the water over them. The bath should be tilted up, so that it is shallower at one end than the other, and the bather may get in, if she chooses, at the shallow end, and wade out as far as she likes towards the other. According to immemorial custom a few pebbles should be thrown in to lie on the floor of the bath. When the weather is very cold, a cup or two of hot water may be added, to take off the chill; and if the water used is taken from a deep and cool well it should be allowed to stand for some time in the sun before being put out for the hawks. Cemented basins in the ground make, of course, capital bathing-places. But they are troublesome to keep clean, and even to empty; and the surrounding edges are likely to become small quagmires. Perhaps the most serviceable bath is a common flat bedroom bath, sunk into a cavity in the ground, and removable at will. A pretty tall block or for short-winged hawks a bow-perch, should be placed near the bath, so that the bather, having finished her ablutions may at once jump on to it.

In some places it is possible to indulge the hawks with a natural bath. When there is in the neighbourhood a stream of clean water with a sandy or gravelly bottom and shelving banks, the hawk may be carried down to a suitable part of the bank, the block set up, and the creance attached. She may be left on the block while the falconer retires to a short distance, and will come back, when bathed, to her post. After the bath, every hawk should remain out, bareheaded, for about an hour, in the sun, if possible. She will busy herself first in spreading her feathers to the sun and wind, and then in pluming and arranging them—a work exceedingly agreeable to those hawks which are particular about their own appearance.

The lure will be more particularly referred to later on. It may suffice to say here that it is a rough imitation of some bird—or, if the hawk is to be trained to ground-game, of some beast—used as a bait to which the hawk is taught to come for food. It is attached to a strong cord or thong a yard or more long, and sometimes to a swivel. It is the invariable companion of the falconer in the field, though never allowed to be seen by the hawk, except when she is required to come to it. The lure should be a sort of magnet, operating to draw the hawk towards it as surely as iron will attract a magnetised needle.

A cadge is a most necessary apparatus when a man is the possessor of more than one hawk. The orthodox and historic cadge—such as one sees in representations of As You Like It on the stage, or, as once I remember, at a Lord Mayor’s Show—is a circular or square or oblong frame of wood, three or four feet across, having straps by which it can be suspended from the shoulders of a man, who in classic phrase is termed a “cadger,” and who stands or walks in the middle, with the frame surrounding him. At each corner of the frame is a small jointed leg, which can be hooked up when the cadge is being carried, and let down when it is to be deposited on the ground. The bars which form the body of the frame are padded on the top, and on these stand the hawks, hooded of course, and fastened by their leashes to the frame. The man with the cadge (whom in these days you will not address by his right title, unless you wish him to give you a month’s notice) will, if he is a sharp fellow, so carry the cadge that all or most of the hawks upon it face the wind. On windy days—and at rook-hawking time it is mostly pretty windy—the cadge should be rested as much as possible under the lee of some shelter, generally a rick. All hawks very much detest a wind; and should not be unnecessarily exposed to it. In fact, trained hawks must be, in this and in all other things, whether at home or in the field, subjected to as little vexation and annoyance as can be. Like other creatures, they have tempers of their own—sometimes very queer ones; and they have enough to put up with, as it is, when trained, without any extra trials that can fairly be spared them. A cadge is shown in the illustration.

A still greater luxury for the field, especially in rook-hawking, is the hawk-van, which is a sort of omnibus, fitted with screen-perches, and hung on very easy springs. In it are conveyed the hawks which are not for the time being in use, and also spare lures and other furniture and properties, not forgetting the luncheon-basket. Such a vehicle will be too pretentious, as well as too costly, for most private individuals, but it is used successfully by the Old Hawking Club, whose excellent arrangements and methods of training and managing hawks will be repeatedly noticed in these pages.

The box-cadge is a very simple apparatus used for the transport of hawks by train or other wheeled conveyance. It is nothing more than a frame resembling the body of a box—very often a box itself—without the lid. The four upper edges of the sides are padded to form perches. Holes are bored in the sides an inch or two below, through which the leashes can be passed and made fast. In the bottom of the box is sawdust to catch the mutes; and the hawks are put on, as naturally they would be, facing outwards, with their tails towards the inside of the box. You will be surprised, if you have never seen it tried, how small a box will accommodate six or eight great big hawks sitting in this simple fashion. By the bye, the box-cadge should be heavily weighted, to prevent upsetting or jolting, in case any hawk should unluckily bate off.

CADGE WITH PEREGRINES

The writer of these pages has invented an apparatus which may be called a pole-cadge, and will attempt to describe it, because in his own experience he has found it very useful and handy, especially for small hawks. It consists of a plain pole—a broom-handle does very well—over which a single or double fold of green baize is stretched and fastened. About nine inches from each end of the perch thus formed, stout wire is firmly twisted round it, and the ends of the wire are allowed to project at an angle of about 90, from one another downwards. When the perch is being carried, it is simply grasped by the middle in one hand; and when it is desired to put it down, the four ends of the wire are rested on the ground, or pushed into the earth if it is soft enough. The hawks are, of course, attached by leashes tied round the pole, as if they were on the screen-perch; and four can be accommodated with the greatest ease on a short stick—one near the bearer’s hand on each side of it, and one near each end of the pole. A long stick would hold six or eight hawks. There is no reason that I can see why a stouter pole should not be used for big hawks. The advantage of this over the ordinary and time-honoured cadge is that all the hawks, if properly placed, must necessarily face the wind, and need never stand sideways to it. The pole-cadge can also be picked up and set down much more quickly. And for carrying hawks when driving in a dogcart or riding on a bicycle—a not impossible feat in these days—this form of cadge is, I think, unsurpassable.

Hawking-gloves, for wearing when a big hawk is on the fist, are gauntleted half-way to the elbow, and made of buckskin or very strong leather. They should, of course, be kept clean and dry. For the smaller hawks a two-button dogskin glove is strong enough, and preferable. Some hawks, when they are very sharp-set, or fidgety and in a bad humour, will pick and tear at the glove or perch in a tiresome way, and even tear it to pieces after a while. A cure for this is to rub the exposed part of the glove or perch with onions or a solution of alum, the taste of which will generally soon disgust the offender with that bad habit. Very often, however, it is good to provide such a hawk with a very tough piece of “tiring,” such as the bare pinion of a goose or fowl, upon which to expend her superfluous energy. Worn gloves should not be patched or mended, but replaced by fresh ones. A glove which has once become thoroughly greasy or sodden should be regarded as spoilt.

Mews, or hawk-houses, are more particularly described in [Chapter XIII.] They should be absolutely free from draughts, and not liable to get too hot in summer or too cold in winter. The doors should fit well, and be kept locked as a rule; and the windows should all have well-fitting shutters. They should be ventilated at the top, and be kept bare of furniture and rubbish of all kinds, and scrupulously clean. The windows should by preference face towards east and north. And in hot climates there should be a verandah outside, and double roof above.

[CHAPTER IV]

Eyesses and Hack Hawks

Eyesses, or young hawks taken from the nest, should not be taken until the latest possible day. If the captor can defer the moment until they are able to fly a little, so much the better. He may then possibly snare them by some means or another. But this is an exceedingly difficult job, as the newly-fledged hawk is for a considerable time fed by her parents, and does not prey for herself. Consequently, she will not come to any live lure or baited trap, and, being very distrustful of men, cannot easily even be approached. Thus it is rarely that even an experienced falconer can lay hands on a wild hawk after it has once left the eyrie. The next best thing to be done is to catch the eyesses when they are branchers, that is to say, when they are able to run and jump about on the branches of a tree, though not yet able to rise on the wing from the ground. In short, the longer they can be left in the natural nursery under the care of their natural guardians, the better they are likely to turn out, not only in their bodily condition, but in temper and disposition. Very often, however, the young birds will come to their trainer when there is a good deal of the white down of their infancy still clothing their unwieldy bodies, and only partially replaced by the brown feathers of their first plumage. At any rate the flight feathers of the wing will not be nearly down to their full length. The outer ones will still have some inches to grow; and those of the tail will be short soft things, with flabby shafts, and not much shape or strength.

It is for many reasons desirable that the trainer should go personally to the place where the eyrie is, and either himself assist in taking the young birds, or at least be ready to receive them within a few hours, and give them their first feed. Unfortunately, most hawk-dealers and many gamekeepers have a rooted objection to this plan, and prefer to muddle about with the hawks themselves, not sending them off to the purchaser until they have already unwittingly done them more or less injury, in one way or another. They either are, or pretend to be, unable to understand or to believe that an eyess delivered immediately into the trainer’s hand is worth at least 25 per cent. more to him than one which has been messed about by unskilled hands, and racketed about in a train for several hours. This stupid prejudice of the captors and vendors is often productive of the deplorable blemish called hunger-streaks, which weakens every important feather in the hawk’s body, and to some extent checks and stunts her whole bodily growth and energy, just at the time when it is most desirable that they should be steadily maintained and developed. A hunger-streak is caused whenever a young hawk has been allowed to grow unreasonably hungry. The result is that that part of the whole web and shaft of each feather which is growing out of the body at the time is deformed through want of proper nourishment, and bears on it ever afterwards a cross line like a blight, so that the feather looks as if a sharp razor had been passed lightly across it. As the feather grows down this line comes down with it, and may be seen in all its hideousness, after the hawk is summed, if any big feather is examined carefully. A fast of more than fifteen hours—in the daytime—will generally cause a slight hunger-streak; but the night hours do not count for much; so that hawks which have to travel far before getting into the trainer’s hands should be taken late in the day and started at once, so that they may be met as soon as they arrive on the following day.

If the falconer cannot attend personally at the capture of the eyesses, he should at least send to the captor a suitable hamper in which to pack and send them. This should be roomy and round in shape, having its sides and top lined inside with sacking, matting, or other soft material. In the bottom of it a good thick layer of straw should be lightly strewed, for the hawks to rest upon; and the lining should fit well enough to exclude almost all light. Even with all these precautions there is some risk of breaking feathers, and still more of bending them and deforming them with dirt. On railways the guards may generally be cajoled into taking special care that the hamper is not turned upside down or banged about. But I have more than once known of valuable hawks arriving dead from a short sea voyage—killed by the evident ill-treatment to which the padded hamper has been subjected on the way.

Once arrived at the trainer’s quarters, the hamper should be opened in a darkened room, with doors and windows closed, in which has been got ready another straw-lined hamper, this time of an oblong or square shape. Each hawk in her turn will be gently taken out of the soiled travelling hamper, of which the lid can be shut down between the times of removing the several inmates. Unless these are very young, a rufter-hood can be slipped on the head of each one, and the jesses and bell at once attached to her. If they have come far, a few morsels of food may be given even before the new-comer has been deposited in the second hamper. But, if too young to be able to move about much, they can all be transferred directly to the new quarters, and the lids left open. In every case the operation of feeding should be at once undertaken. And a much more troublesome thing this operation is than the unlearned may suppose. In the first place, there must be in readiness a good store of fresh, tender beef or sheep’s heart, cut into small strips and slightly warmed. And of this the new-comers must by some means or other be induced to swallow at least a small quantity. If care has been taken from the very first not to alarm them, they may possibly take the morsels of meat quietly and naturally, when offered to them gently on the end of a small stick. If so, an important point will have been gained. But it is much more likely that at the sight of their new and awful-looking foster-parent—when a subdued light has been let into the room—they will draw back their heads, open their mouths, and hiss indignantly. Still, if the meat is very slowly and quietly obtruded towards the open mouths, there is always a good chance that one of them, bolder than the rest, will strike at it, half in anger, and half with the idea that it may be good to eat. And, if such a youngster should happen at the first shot to catch hold of the piece she aims at, she is quite likely to swallow it, in which case the rest of your task becomes easy. If things do not go quite so smoothly, and a hawk which has seized the meat flips it scornfully away, there is no need to give up the attempt. She may do this a dozen times, and at the thirteenth time of asking may swallow the food and begin feeding readily. Or, whilst pupil number one is thus making a fool of the teacher, number two may take heart and come up to the attack, with a more practical result. Even at the expense of much time and patience, it is worth while to get the youngsters to conform from the first, and take their rations willingly and amicably. As soon as one has done this the others will follow suit, some quickly and others grudgingly. If all such efforts fail, or if the hawks, being nearly grown up, bate and begin to dash about, you must, of course, use rougher measures. To starve them is worst of all. There is no harm, if all modes of persuasion fail, in “stuffing” a young hawk. Let her be held firmly, and as she opens her mouth in defiance at the meat offered, let the falconer push it inside her beak, and then, if she will not swallow it, push it down with the small stick into her throat. I have known an eyess hobby which had to be “stuffed” with all her meals for eight days! And afterwards she became a fine hawk and a very strong flier.

When all the hawks have taken a half-crop or so, they should be left in peace in the darkened room for two hours at least. It is a good thing, by the way, to put on each of them different-coloured jesses, so that from the first they may be easily known apart. Brown, yellow, white, orange, and black are perhaps the best colours—not red, or pink, or green. Notes may also be made from the first in a hawk-book or falconer’s diary. As, for instance, “June 10—Eyess peregrines arrived; No. 1: small falcon; fed readily, and had nearly a full crop; seems strong and active; outer wing feather about half down; brown jesses and hack bell. No. 2: big tiercel or small falcon (uncertain); fed with difficulty; half a crop; seems timid and rather dull; black jesses.” Of course, if the hawks are to be turned out as soon as they can fly, no slits will be made in the outer end of the jesses. Another thing which may very probably have to be done is to clean the hawk’s tail-feathers, and possibly the tips of the wings, if soiled during the journey. This is done with warm water, soap, and an old toothbrush. If the dirt is allowed to get hard on the feathers it will be almost impossible to get it off without fraying the web. The feet of each hawk should also be well washed and brushed with soap and warm water; and it is always as well to do the same with the nares, or else brush them and the beak with a brush dipped in a solution of tobacco. A fresh feed should be given at intervals of not more than five hours between sunrise and sunset, i.e. three at least in the day. In fact, young nestlings can hardly be fed too often or too much, when they seem ready to eat. But the food should not often be as heavy as beef. Young pigeons, young chickens, bullock’s heart, and rabbits may be given to the big hawks; small birds—fresh-killed always—and sheep’s heart to the small ones. Old pigeons are rather too heating, and old fowls are too tough. Whenever butcher’s meat is given, it should be slightly warmed first, but not dipped in water. The hawks must be kept quite dry, and in a moderately warm but airy place, away from all draughts. Very young sparrow-hawks must be kept in a specially warm and well-sheltered place, or they are pretty sure to develop a fatal attack of cramp. Whenever it may be necessary to move a young hawk or meddle with her, the room should be made as nearly dark as possible.

After a few feeds, administered quietly and patiently, the young hawks will begin to lose their distrust of their new surroundings; and first one and then the others will begin to take their meat eagerly, stretching their necks out, and perhaps pushing their way towards the feeder’s hand. When this is the case they may be indulged with a few tit-bits on the fist or on the lure. If the lure is used, the pieces of meat should be merely laid upon it, so that at first the hawk may pick them off quite easily; and by degrees they may be made to walk towards it from their artificial nest along a causeway roughly constructed for that purpose. If it is preferred to get them to feed on the fist, as it probably will in the case of short-winged hawks, they must first be made to pick pieces off the gloved hand. Then hold in the gloved fist, between the outer part of the thumb and the end of the forefinger, a very tender piece of meat or wing of a small bird. As the hawk takes hold of it, and finds that it cannot be taken up without a pull, she will, at once or after a while, give a tug at it, and afterwards probably put out a foot and seize the glove, using her foot as a leverage, just as an oarsman uses his stretcher. A little encouragement will make this easy for her; and by a little management it can be so arranged that she gets both feet upon the fist. Thus by degrees she will be induced to stand on the back of the hand, and in that position tear up her food. The next step is to raise her slowly up on the fist, while busy at her meal. In like manner, when pulling at the lure, she may be lifted bodily on it, and thence shifted adroitly on to the fist, while the garnished part of the lure is still kept under her.

With a little luck this stage of the young bird’s education may have been reached at almost the same time when the feathers are nearly down and they are ready to fly. In such case the sooner they are turned out to hack the better. When they have grown so accustomed to feeding on the lure or on hand that they will run to it as soon as they see it, they may be let loose in the hack field, with a man to watch them, having a lure with him to entice them if they stray away. Most of the popular books dealing with hawking complacently assume that here no difficulty arises. Unfortunately for the beginner, such difficulties will occur, even in the best-regulated establishments. For instance, the hawks may begin to fly the very day after they arrive, and before they will feed willingly. What is to be done in such a case? Well, each hawk must be made to the lure or the fist before she is turned out. She may be brailed and kept in a spare room, with or without her sisters and brothers. Or she may have slits cut in her jesses, and be attached by a leash to a block, for all the world like a trained hawk, and thence enticed by degrees to run to the lure for her food, until she is keen for it. She should at least know what the lure means before being let entirely loose. But it is generally sufficient that one of a lot which came from the same nest should be made to the lure. The rest, when turned out, will find their way, when hungry, after her to the feeding-place. Some special caution should be observed with hobbies. I know of two which would come to the lure in an outhouse, but only reluctantly. They were turned out one morning to hack in a quiet place, and, though they had never flown more than a yard high before, went up into tall fir-trees. And there they remained, staring at the well-garnished lures which were laid out underneath, declining to go down, taking short flights from tree to tree, and cruising about in the air. This state of affairs continued for about three days, after which it was discovered that the two youngsters—who had never been seen to chase anything, far less to kill it—had become wild hawks! Some falconers habitually carry their eyesses, break them to the hood, and partially reclaim them, before turning them out to hack. But the more natural and promising system is never to confine them at all until they are taken up at the end of the period of hack. The youngster, when thus treated, has become, by the time she has to be put in training, as like a wild hawk as a tame one can be. And, as the haggard is better than the red passager, and the passager than the soar-hawk, so by analogy it may be assumed as a rule that the hack hawk which has never been handled is superior to the eyess which has. Sir John Sebright’s plan of putting out the young hawks in a hamper hung against a tree-trunk, with the lid of the hamper turned down as a platform by day, and fastened up at night, will answer with orderly, well-behaved hawks. But it will be wise to keep a close watch upon the artificial nest, in case of a hawk jumping off when it can run but cannot fly. It might stray for ever so far, and hide in bushes, or be devoured by a cat or fox.

We suppose now that the eyesses are at hack. Even yet their outer wing feathers will not be fully down; and the sails, even of those which will ultimately be the longest winged, appear rounded at the ends, like those of a sparrow-hawk. But they will very soon learn to fly quite well, with a rather gliding movement, the tips of the feathers bending upwards as they strike the air. They will not go far from the spot where they are turned out. What sort of place should this be that is chosen for the hack ground? That depends upon the facilities which the trainer enjoys for selecting a country. None perhaps is better than a large park, with fir-trees in it, or an open moor with a few stone walls. If the falconer is nervous about turning out a whole nestful at once, he may tether one of the most backward at a block in the middle of the hack field, with a “tiring” to amuse her, and place some garnished lures on the ground near to her, to which the liberated hawks may come when they like. There should also be spare blocks put out in the field, upon which the hack hawks may jump if they like after feeding. Of course, if the weather is very wet, the commencement of hack should be deferred till it is more settled, and the hawks brailed and let loose in an empty room or loft. If they have been “manned” pretty well before they are turned out, and will allow themselves to be taken up when feeding on the lure, they may be taken in under shelter the first night or two. But if it is fairly warm and fine they will be better left out. They will generally at or soon after sunset go up into pretty tall trees to roost. If they stay too long on a block or a gate or post, it is as well to drive or take them off, and see that they are perched up somewhere aloft, out of harm’s way. By the bye, hawks, as a rule, should be turned loose in the early part of the day, after a light feed, so that they may be sure to get hungry again by the middle of the day. Jubilee, the best hack hawk I ever had, when he was let loose at 7 a.m., having never before flown two yards, spread his wings, and at the first start flew softly but steadily away across a small river, and, rising easily, took perch 300 yards off on the top branches of an elm 70 feet high. He afterwards flitted about from one high tree to another within a range of 500 yards, and only at midday came down to his sister, who was eating her luncheon at a block in the hack field. He spent that night in a tall elm, not far off, and did not go more than half a mile from the hack field until he was taken up nearly a fortnight later.

If the falconer can hack his own hawks, so much the better. He will learn during the process much about their individual characters and aptitudes. Often he will name them in accordance with their peculiarities or the adventures which each may meet with. It is, however, generally possible for him to get his hawks hacked by some other person, or to purchase fully-hacked hawks after they have been taken up. The worst of it is that unless you know a good deal about the deputy hawk-master, you have no guarantee that the month’s hack which they are supposed to have had is real or imaginary.

On the first or second day of hack the falconer should make up his mind whether he will hack his hawks to the lure, to the fist, or to the board. For short-winged hawks the fist or the board is preferable. For gers, peregrines, and hobbies, the board or the lure. For merlins, the lure and the fist, combined in such proportions as seems to be most suitable; generally more of the lure than of the fist. Each of the systems has its merits, and each its defects.

If the board is chosen, it must be substituted at once for the lure which was used on the first day. It consists of a plank or log of wood, the lower side of which rests on the ground, while to the top side is attached the food for the expected guests. One ration should be provided for each hawk out—at intervals of two feet or so all along the board. It is very important that the meat should be so attached that it cannot be pulled off and carried away, but must be, strictly speaking, consumed on the premises. When the feast consists of rabbits’ legs, fowls’ wings, or the like, it can be firmly tied by the bone. But, when meat is given, much care and ingenuity is required to make it fast. Perhaps the best plan is to tie the piece tightly by the two opposite corners. If it is possible for a hawk to bolt with a substantial piece, she is quite likely to do so. And, having done so once, she will try to do it again, especially if she happens to be a shy hawk, and afraid of her stronger sisters who are beside her at the board.

It must be confessed that hawks at hack exhibit a good deal of perversity in their dealings with the hack board. Theoretically, each of them ought to come down punctually at meal-time, and take her place at the al fresco table, where she can eat up in peace and quiet the portion set out for her, without interference by or with her neighbours. But, as a matter of fact, I regret to say that, instead of adopting this rational and orderly course, hack hawks are often no better behaved than an American traveller at a roadside feeding-place, or a dowager at a ball-supper. As soon as the first comer has settled down to that part of the board to which chance or choice has brought her, the next comer will make straight for the same spot, taking no notice whatever of the dainty morsels with which the rest of the board is bedecked. Thereupon, of course, squabblings and bickerings, and probably a scuffle, in which the weaker or less greedy of the rival gluttons is driven off. Sometimes there will be three hungry young ladies at the same piece, and a sort of battle ensues. Fortunately the quarrel does not end in blows, nor in broken feathers, unless the edges of the board have carelessly been left square and sharp at the upper edges. The disadvantages of the board-school system, as it may be called, are thus considerable. It leads to rivalries and jealousies, and sometimes to free fights, among the school-children. These are not birds which, in the words of Dr. Watts, “in their little nests agree.” Moreover, one bad habit at least is very likely to be learnt. It is impossible always to fix on the rations to the board so that they cannot be pulled off until finished. Suppose, now, that a tiercel, having eaten half his ration, finds that the remainder has come loose. And suppose that one of his sisters, having made a joint meal farther down the board with another falcon, happens to want some more. She may turn a covetous eye towards the tiercel’s portion. Upon which exit the latter, food in hand, closely followed by his big sister, who gives him a hot time of it, chasing him about the hack field, and probably catching him. Then follows a tooth-and-nail encounter, in which the male, or unworthier sex, as it is with hawks, gets the worst of it. Few things can be more conducive than this to the tiresome vice of carrying. It is for this reason that, in the case of merlins, which are especially addicted to this fault, I do not much believe in the board system. On the other hand, it has its advocates and its advantages. Hawks which are so hacked soon become much wilder than when treated in another way. And wildness, at this period of a hawk’s life, is a thing to be desired. Board-school hawks, when taken up, are found to more nearly resemble a wild-caught bird. They seldom or never scream. They have none of the namby-pamby, molly-coddle habits of the fist-fed or lure-fed eyess. They do not hang about round the trainer, or follow him like spaniels. On the contrary, they often will not come down to the board unless he retires to a respectful distance. They are unapproachable by any louts or strollers who may come in sight, and, being shy, take wing very readily, and generally get more flying, and at a better pace.

If the lure system is chosen, the trainer goes to the hack field at feeding-times with as many lures as there are hawks at hack. Each lure must be so heavy that the hawk cannot move it at all, and the food must be attached so that it cannot be pulled off while uneaten. To the first hawk which comes up the first lure will be thrown out; to the second comer another; and so on till the last is served. Fighting will occur, no doubt, as it is impossible to prevent two hawks from coming down to one lure. But, then, the master of the ceremonies is at hand to separate the combatants, and keep each to her own lure, whereas at the board they have to just fight it out.

It is much the same thing with the fist-feeding system. But this can hardly be attempted with success when many big hawks are at hack together. As the trainer comes to the hack field, the hack hawks will come up, taking perch on his hand, his head, his shoulder, or wherever they can find a place. Two or three may generally be accommodated on the left forearm and fist. From his meat-box or feeding-pouch the trainer will take out with his right hand the prepared mouthfuls of food, and distribute them impartially among the hungry claimants. But if there is more than one hawk out, it will be found almost necessary, and certainly convenient, to use lures as well. After a few morsels have been distributed, these lures can be thrown down for all the hawks except one, which may finish her meal on the fist. One day one hawk may thus be retained, and another day another may take her turn, so that all keep up their habit of feeding freely there. Sparrow-hawks which are to be hacked on this system may be coped a little before they are turned out, for they have a way of digging in their claws to any soft place. But a goshawk can only be hacked to the fist if she or he is the only one out. The spectacle of a falconer (or ostringer, to use the correct word) with a goshawk’s claws firmly fixed in his head or shoulder would be a rare subject for a serio-comic portrait!

Meal-times for the hack hawks should be pretty punctually observed. Otherwise the hawks will become irregular in their habits, and the falconer will be compelled rather to dance attendance on them than they on him. The food may be left out on the board for an hour each time, and then removed, before it has become fly-blown or soaked with rain or frizzled in the sun. 6 to 7 a.m., noon to 1, and 6 to 7 p.m., are very good hours. And each time when the board is garnished and the food in readiness, the trainer may blow a whistle, or ring a bell, or sound a gong, to give notice from afar. At each meal there must be “calling over”; and if there is any absentee a mark must be recorded against his or her name.

A bath or two must be set out in the hack field. From about 9 to 11 a.m. it should be kept pretty full of clean fresh water; but it should be removed or emptied before noon. Most hawks are very capricious about bathing; and hobbies, which want it most, will seldom bathe at all. The others should be accustomed to bathe early in the day, so that when they are old they will not depart from this godly habit. Plenty of blocks should stand around, on which the bathed hawks may stand to sun and air themselves.

The longer the period of hack can be safely protracted the better for the hack hawk and her trainer. All the while she is learning to fly. During the latter part she is also learning to chase and to stoop. Here it is that the danger comes in. For in that ardour of youthful chase what kills may come! At first the random shots made from tall tree-tops at passing swallows will be wide enough of the mark. Even the young missel-thrushes or wood-pigeons which have frequented the hack ground will make light of the clumsy efforts made to cut them down; and the house-pigeons from the nearest dovecot will treat with supreme contempt the well-meaning but awkward stoops made at them. But every day finds the young hawks more expert, as well as stronger on the wing. The long feathers are now all down. The shafts harden, and no longer bend perceptibly as the wing-tips strike the air. Presently the flights at wild birds are no longer mere child’s play. The fugitives have to exert themselves to save their skins. Very likely the young hunters of the air are not at first altogether in earnest. Secure of their food at the hack board or lure or fist, and trusting to it for their subsistence, they are merely “having a lark” with the intruders on what has begun to be their domain. But it is increasingly difficult to know how much of their endeavours is play and how much real business. Be sure, however, that when any stoop, whether playful or not, proves successful, and the unfortunate victim is in the pursuer’s clutch, there will be no more play; and on some lonely patch of ground not fifty miles from the hack field there will be left a litter of feathers, the mortal remains of the first quarry killed by hawks of the year.

Let me here quote from my hawk diary: “12 noon; out to hack field, and follow a blackbird down Butt’s orchard hedge. Nearing the corner, blackbird (young cock) takes across the orchard. Drop him, winged, as he goes over the front hedge; and he falls in the hack field. Jubilee [eyess male merlin] is on a block in the middle of it, 90 yards off. It is his third day out. As the blackbird falls, he starts, and, stooping at it as it runs, takes it, kills it, and begins to plume it like a wild hawk before I get up.” Pretty sharp work this for a little hawk that had never used his wings till the day before yesterday. But this capture of a winged bird was not counted as a “kill”; and Jubilee was left out for a good eight days more, and might probably have been left a few longer. Hack hawks know no sentimental scruples about taking their prey on the ground. Here is another extract from a hawk diary: “6.30 a.m., out and fed hack hawks on lure. ‘She’ not visible. At 7 saw her on wire fence, half-way across park. As I got near with lure she started, and, flying low over the ground away from me, turned suddenly, and dropped on some bird in the grass. Was pluming it, when heifers came right up to her. Then lifted, and carried into the lower belt. Quarry looked like a missel-thrush.” The same day “She” was taken up. It is a risky thing to leave hawks out after they have once begun serious and successful chasing. Yet it is a thousand pities to take them up too soon, just when they are improving most rapidly. Peregrines may be left out, with heavy hack-bells, for four weeks or occasionally more. Merlins seldom more than three weeks. If the hack place and its neighbourhood are very open, and the wild birds about are few, there is less danger, and less need for hurry. But when the trees and bushes are well stocked with wood-pigeons, thrushes, and small birds, beware.

It is now that the advantage will be seen of putting distinctive jesses on the hawks. The trainer must watch the board carefully. He may not be able to get within 80 yards of it. But from his hiding-place, be it far or near, he must tell over the number of his charges every morning, noon, and evening, so as to see that all have been down. A field-glass may be necessary to identify each visitant. Brown-jess may come down at 6 a.m., take a light breakfast, and be off. White-jess may not appear till 12; and even then no signs of Black-jess. The case begins to look serious. But at 12.50 at last a hawk comes down. Is this the truant? Or is it Brown-jess again, with her luncheon appetite come on? The glass will tell you quickly if the colour of the jesses worn corresponds to the one name or the other. But if both hawks wore the same coloured jesses, you could not say. If the last comer is Black-jess—only delayed till so late by mere want of appetite—she may be left out, perhaps for some days longer. And the extra days’ exercise will undoubtedly make her a faster and stronger hawk. But if you cannot tell one hawk from another, it will be impossible for you to know when one has missed two successive meals or not. If Black-jess absents herself all day until the evening repast, the inference is strong that in the morning she killed something for herself. If she keeps away for a whole day, that conclusion becomes almost a certainty. She must be taken up when the first chance occurs. Here, however, arises a fresh difficulty. If it is a tiercel who so absents himself—especially a small tiercel—the presumption that he has killed for himself is pretty well conclusive. But what if it is a falcon? Her brother may have chased and killed; and the sister—a slow hawk who could not catch anything for herself—may have seen the flight, or seen the tiercel pluming his dead quarry, and then come up, and by her superior strength driven him off, and pirated the spoil. You, wrongly inferring that it was she who killed the quarry, will take her up the next day, quite prematurely, and leave the real captor, who is much more worthy of bonds and imprisonment, to remain in dangerous liberty. The same doubt may arise when the absentee is an extra strong and extra greedy bird of either sex. That she or he has breakfasted or dined out is, of course, equally clear. But was it the captive of her own wings and talons that she devoured, or that of a weaker, but cleverer, hawk? These are questions impossible to answer, unless some person has actually seen what occurred. The safest plan, though not the most magnanimous, when such evidence cannot be got, is, when one hawk has clearly been killing, to take the whole lot up.

Hack hawks are as various in their habits at hack as they are at all other times. Some are lazy, some active, some both by fits and starts. One will be playful, and find a childish delight in chasing butterflies or falling leaves. Others, surly and ill-tempered, ready on slight provocation to make vicious stoops at their brethren or sisters. Some will sit for hours sullenly on a post; others will fly long distances for their own amusement, and soar aloft to a good height. These are the most promising. The falconer, if he keeps his eyes open, will have learnt before hack is over pretty well the relative speeds and particular dispositions of his wards. Rarely are these early indications falsified in after-life. But a backward hawk is not necessarily a bad hawk. During quite the last days of hack a hawk which had seemed rather dull and slow will sometimes wake up, and put on pace in an astonishing way, until from being a member of the awkward squad she comes to rival the leaders of the whole school in activity and speed. But a sulky and moping hawk seldom turns out first-rate.

Speed is the great desideratum in a hawk. It is like the “big battalions” in an army; like a good eye to a cricketer. When people complain about bad-tempered hawks, it is often the trainer who is to blame. But in the matter of speed, as shown at hack time, the trainer is hardly, if at all, responsible. Bad temper is a nuisance, no doubt, and a difficulty. But want of speed is worse. It is incurably destructive of good sport. And here, speaking of the relative speeds of hawks at hack, I will ask leave to relate two anecdotes. Queen, a powerful and speedy, but not very brilliant flier, went off with a rabbit’s head, pursued by her sister and two brothers. Winding about along the side of a long hedge, now one side and now the other, she evaded all their stoops, and, after reaching the end of the hedge, where there were some elms and oaks, dodged rapidly in and out among them, loaded as she was, throwing out all the pursuers, and finally conveying her booty to a safe corner, where she discussed it all by herself in peace.

On his eleventh day of hack, Jubilee, the male merlin already referred to, was sitting with his two sisters and one brother in the branches of a fallen tree in the hack field, under which I was seated, garnishing the lures for their delectation a little later on. Suddenly the little hawk started at his best pace right down the field. I supposed that he was after some blackbird in the far hedge. But before reaching it he turned, and began mounting as he came back towards me. I looked round, and for the first time saw that a wild kestrel had come over into the field, and was dodging the stoops made at him by the remaining merlins. Now this kestrel was one of a brood which had been flying at hack under their parents’ care in a neighbouring field. They were already strong on the wing before the merlins were turned out; and I had been rather fearing, when I discovered their near presence, that they might do the young merlins a bad turn. No encounter had, however, as yet occurred between the two families. The kestrel had at first little difficulty in eluding the stoops of the three merlins, who seemed not much in earnest. But when Jubilee came over, at some height in the air, there was a different tale to tell. With his first stoop he made the wild hawk cry out; at the second he almost feathered him, and made him shuffle off to the orchard near at hand, where, swirling round the tree-trunks, he threw out his assailant, and made off to a tall elm. Here, no doubt, he fancied he was safe, especially as the other hawks, on Jubilee’s appearance, tailed off. But not a bit of it. Throwing himself well up above the elm, the little jack dashed down at the enemy in the tree, dislodged him, and with a back-handed stoop drove him down to the ground, hunted him all across a meadow, grazing him at every shot he made, and lost him in a big orchard farther on. The pace of the wild hawk was very poor in comparison with that of this half-tame lure-hacked merlin. It seemed as if the latter could have given him ten yards in a hundred. In straight-ahead flying, in mounting, and in throwing up, the kestrel was completely outpaced. Yet before now trained merlins, as I have heard tell, have been outflown and chased by a wild kestrel. I should not like, and do not ever expect, to own such a trained merlin.

The day comes—all too soon—when the falconer dares to keep the hack hawks out no longer. The decree goes out for one to be taken up. If this one has been hacked to the fist the proceeding is simple enough. As she stands complacently breakfasting on the fist, the jesses are grasped in the fingers of the left hand. A couple of snips with a sharp pair of strong nail-scissors make a slit in the two jesses. And through these a spring swivel is deftly slipped. Attached to the swivel is a leash, the end of which is wound round the little finger, while the button of it is grasped in the palm of the left hand. As the hawk proceeds with her meal she is taken quietly to a darkened room, where a rufter hood is slipped on her head. Five minutes' carrying, and she is placed on a mound of turf, food and all, while the leash, unwound from the little finger, is fastened to a peg strongly planted in the ground. If the hawk has been hacked to the lure or to the board, the process is a little more complicated, but presents no real difficulty. A bow-net must then be used. This instrument is more fully described in the next chapter. It consists of a hoop of metal on which a light net is stitched. The ends are fixed down; and the hoop is so set that a pull on a long string will bring the rim up and over any object which may be near it on the near side. The object, of course, in this case will be the lure, or the piece of food with which the hack board is garnished. When the hawk is feeding, the string is pulled. The net swings over, encompassing both meat and hawk. Up runs the falconer, to secure the captive, who is made fast, hooded, and taken home.

Even if a hawk has begun to prey for herself, she can still often be captured with a live lure, that is, a live bird attached to a light cord. Once find the hawk, and let the live lure fly, and she is pretty sure to take it. Then she may be snared in one of the ways described in the chapter on Lost Hawks.

A hack hawk, once taken up, is treated in very much the same way as a wild-caught hawk. The process of reclamation begins at once. And this process will be found described at length in the succeeding chapter.

[CHAPTER V]

Passage Hawks

All big hawks captured after they have begun to prey for themselves are now commonly called passage hawks, although the name, strictly speaking, may not be at all correct. Wild-caught is a more inclusive term; and it is often used in the case of sparrow-hawks, merlins, and hobbies, when casually caught by bird-catchers or gamekeepers, and not killed in the process. We have seen that passage hawk means properly a hawk caught during the period of her first migration southwards. It is, however, of course, possible to capture her either in early autumn before the migration has commenced—in which case a peregrine is more properly called a slight falcon or slight tiercel—or late in the winter, when she has become a lantiner, or in the spring migration, when she is travelling north. But if she has begun to moult before she comes into man’s possession, she is correctly described as a haggard. If gamekeepers were a little more alive to their own interests they would often catch sparrow-hawks, and sometimes merlins and peregrines, alive, and dispose of them at a very remunerative price, instead of killing them, often in a most barbarous way, by means of pole-traps and other snares, which destroy or cripple them after hours of torture, and render them almost valueless. But for generations past no systematic attempts have been made in this country to snare wild hawks in an uninjured condition; and if a falconer should be able to obtain any hawk so taken he may consider himself exceptionally lucky. Several such hawks have indeed been caught in England, and, getting rather accidentally into good hands, have turned out very excellent performers. Occasionally a sparrow-hawk or merlin is saved alive out of the nets of a bird-catcher; and these, if heard of before their plumage is ruined, are prizes for which many a falconer will gladly give something like their weight in silver.

But, as a rule, the full-grown hawks which come into the market are captives which have been taken on the autumnal passage by the professional hawk-catchers of Valkenswaard, in North Brabant. The sons of Adrian Möllen, formerly falconer to the famous Loo Club, still carry on this business of snaring peregrines on the great open heath, which for many centuries has been resorted to for a like purpose, and which, of course, takes its name from its renown as a place over which the migrants must often pass. Anyone who wants a wild-caught peregrine should write beforehand to one of these gentlemen, who will probably not fail to send him what he requires. They go out every year, in the months of October and November, and lie in wait daily in their cunningly-constructed huts until they have secured as many captives as have been ordered in various places. A dozen or more are annually required for England, and sometimes a few for France. The variety most in demand is the red falcon, that is to say, the female peregrine in the nestling plumage, not yet moulted. But blue falcons are also sometimes wanted, and of late years there has been some considerable demand for tiercels, both red and blue. Merlins, sparrow-hawks, and an occasional goshawk may be taken, and, still more rarely, a ger. The price for a falcon is four to five pounds, and of a tiercel from three to four. But a special apparatus is required for catching the smaller hawks, which will not usually come to the same lure as a peregrine. If the captured hawk has to be kept for any length of time in the captor’s hands before being fetched or sent away, an extra charge is made for her maintenance.

The device whereby the wild hawk is caught in Holland is somewhat elaborate. It has more than once been described in print, and may be briefly noticed here. A hut is first built up with sods of turf in an open part of the plain. It looks from outside like a mere knoll or rising in the ground. A nearer inspection shows a small opening in front, through which a man, or at a pinch two men, can crawl. It is fitted with a low seat inside, and at the back, behind and above the seat, is an aperture something like the small port-hole of a cabin, which can be opened by pulling out a sod of turf, and closed by replacing the same. This is to enable the hawk-catcher to spy out at a hawk which is coming up from behind his back. Outside the hut and in front of it is a sort of small altar or table of turf, on the flat top of which is pegged down, by means of a short creance and jesses, a butcher-bird or shrike. Scraps of meat are set out for the delectation of this feathered watchman, who is also indulged with a miniature hut of his own, into which he may retreat when terrified, as it is hoped that he soon may be. The eyesight of this tethered spy is so keen that he can descry his enemy the hawk at an incredible distance in the sky. Whenever one is approaching, though far out of range of the sharpest human eye, he begins to exhibit signs of alarm. As the hawk comes nearer he fidgets more and more, glancing nervously—or pointing, as they call it—in the direction of the foe. If the latter still comes nearer, he will cry out in his terror, and finally run cowering under the shelter of his hut.

Meanwhile the falconer has not been idle. Snatching the turf shutter from the little window behind him, he takes a look through his field-glass in the direction to which the shrike is pointing, searching for the coming hawk as an astronomer does for a lost star. If, on espying it, he judges that it is a peregrine, he sets to work seriously about the main business of the day.

At some distance from the hut is fixed up a pole with a line—we will call it A—running from the top of it to the hut. To this line, at some yards distance from the pole, is attached a branch line, after the manner of the paternoster used in angling, at the end of which is a live pigeon in jesses. When the line A is slack, the pigeon rests on the ground, or in a hut to which he is at liberty to resort when he likes. But if, by a pull in the falconer’s hut, the line A is pulled taut, up goes the pigeon in the air, and flutters about at the end of his branch line, conspicuous from afar. Often there is a second pole at a like distance from the big hut, but in a rather different direction; and to this a second line, B, is attached, with a tame tiercel or peregrine of some sort, rigged out in the same way as the pole-pigeon. This hawk may have a handful of straw or worsted fastened to one of his feet, so that he may look as if he had some dead quarry in possession, and serve the better to attract the wild passager. As the shrike points, and the wild hawk is coming up, the falconer works with a will by the two strings A and B at the pole-hawk and the pole-pigeon. But as soon as the passager is nearly overhead, and the shrike has hidden himself, it is time to let loose the pole strings and let the very live lures attached to it also bolt into shelter.

We now come to another component part of the Dutch hawk-trap. A third line, C, leads from the hut to a small ring-peg in the ground sixty or eighty yards away, passes through it, and a few feet farther on, but at the side, is attached to a live pigeon in a box, out of which it can be pulled by drawing the line. One more particular, and the whole apparatus is complete. On each side of the ring-peg, and about two feet from it, are pegs which hold down the hinges of a bow-net, something like that which was used for catching up the hack hawks. The usual and best way of making a bow-net is to take two equal lengths of strong wire, five or six feet long, and bend each into a nearly semicircular arch. The two ends of each hoop are twisted up into a ring, and the two hoops are joined together so that a sort of easy hinge is formed at the ends. A net of fine but strong string is stretched over the whole circle formed by the two hoops. When it is set, one-half of it is pegged down flat on the ground and the other is folded back over it. To the middle of the upper hoop is attached a fourth long line, D, by which it can be pulled over, so that when the line is taut the hoops form a circle, with the net covering all the space between the hinges. This will explain how the falconer, ensconced in his hut, can, by a pull at the long line D, passing through a ground peg to the arch of the bow-net, pull it over the ring through which the line C passes. Thus there are four lines of which the ends lie in the floor of the hut, each marked with a different colour, and each requiring to be worked with prompt and accurate skill at the eventful moment.

We can now understand the whole process of entrapping the passage hawk, and shall find that it includes the following movements:—(1) Pointing of the shrike; (2) removal of the turf shutter, and observation of the coming hawk through the field-glass; (3) pulling of the lines A and B, by which the pole-pigeon and the pole-hawk are made to flutter or fly about and show themselves; (4) slackening of these lines and escape of the pole-pigeon, pole-hawk, and shrike, under their respective places of shelter. By this time the wild hawk ought to be close at hand, and eagerly looking out for the pigeon which has so mysteriously disappeared. Then (5) tightening of the line C, by which the hitherto unseen pigeon is pulled out of his box, and displayed to the expectant hawk above; (6) capture of this pigeon by the hawk. Next (7) a much stronger and steadier pull is given to the line C, by which the far end of it is dragged—pigeon, hawk, and all—towards the ring between the horns of the bow-net. As soon as the pigeon, with the hawk upon it, has got to this ring, a piece of tape or ribbon fastened on to a particular place on the line C will have been pulled to a certain place within the hut, and will warn the falconer that he need pull it no farther, as all things are now ready for the next and most critical move. Then, holding the line C still tight in one hand, the operator (8) will, with a quick well-sustained effort, tighten the line D, and pull the net over hawk and pigeon. All that remains now for the falconer to do is (9) to make fast the end of the line D round a peg fixed in the hut for that purpose, and then (10) to run out, with his best leg foremost, and take the captive out of the net.

The reader may think this rather a needlessly elaborate and complicated device; but it is a very sure one, when the operator does not bungle. It has stood the test of many centuries, and is as good now as it was in the days of Alfred the Great. There is no doubt that by means of such an apparatus—slightly simplified, perhaps—wild peregrines might be taken on the Wiltshire and Berkshire downs. Lord Lilford once had a hut or huts out in England with some success. A similar apparatus, with a less elaborate hiding-place, would enable keepers or shepherds to catch many a sparrow-hawk and some merlins. For the former there is almost always a good demand. So far is it from being true, as many books assert, that “sparrow-hawks are easy to procure,” there are always half a dozen falconers in England who are vainly wishing that they could lay hands on one.

To extract a wild hawk of any kind, but especially a ger, peregrine, or goshawk, from the bow-net is sometimes no laughing matter. To set about it with thickly-gloved hands involves much awkwardness, and is not unlikely, in the case of an inexperienced man, to end in the loss of the hawk. There is also the danger of breaking feathers, or even a bone in the wing or leg. On the other hand, to go to work with even one hand ungloved exposes you, unless you are adroit beyond the average of human beings, to some particularly painful punctures and gashes. There are eight talons or claws, each as sharp as a needle, awaiting your attack, and it will not be the hawk’s fault if she does not maul you with them. As for the beak, it is well-nigh sharp and strong enough to nip a piece clean out of the back of your hand. Yet the prisoner must be got out somehow, and moreover must be held quiet while a pair of jesses and a hood or sock are put on. A sock is an article of unpretentious but sterling value to the hawk-catcher. Sometimes it is not a real sock, but a strait-waistcoat of more artificial kind made to serve as an improved imitation of the homely article of clothing originally used by the old falconers. But the common and unimproved sock is quite good enough for the hawk-catcher’s purpose. It is turned inside out, in the way familiar to washerwomen, so that at the heel there is an open end, while the toe and top of the sock form the other end. Into that open heel is pushed the head of the captured hawk. The sock itself is then drawn bodily on to and over the hawk’s shoulders. The beak, being hooked downwards, will not interfere with the operation. The soft covering is pulled down right over the back, chest, and thighs of the victim, until nothing but the tail and the tips of the wings protrude. If it fits tolerably, the hawk will be effectually strait-waistcoated, and may be laid down on its back like an overturned turtle. A man’s sock, big or little, fits a falcon or tiercel fairly; and a boy’s or child’s sock may be used for the smaller hawks. Before the sock is used a couple of tapes may be sewn across it, one three or four inches from the toe, and another five or six inches farther back, so that when it is on the ends of one tape may be tied—not tightly, of course—round the throat of the captive hawk just in front of the shoulders, and the ends of the other tape round the back, just above the tail. The toe of the sock may then be cut off, so that the hawk’s head is left free.

The first captive, once reduced to quiescence for the time being, will be laid out on the floor of the hut or near it, while the falconer returns to his watch-place. For there is no reason why he should not effect another, or even more captures, in the same day. Climatic influences or mere chance may have ordained that for a week or more he should have had no chance, and yet now the hawks should come fast and furiously to the decoy. Long-winged hawks, unlike woodcocks and many other migratory birds, travel with the wind in their faces; and they by no means hurry on their way, pausing, sometimes for some days at a time, at any place where quarry is abundant, where the bathing is good, and where, perhaps, there are other attractions which we dull, earth-treading mortals cannot understand or appreciate. As night comes on, the captives are carried home in their socks, and a rufter hood is put on, after which the socks are cut off, and they are set down on a hillock of soft turf, or, if they show no signs of violent uneasiness, on the screen-perch, the leash having, of course, in either case been attached and made fast. From this moment the person for whom the hawk is intended should by rights assume the ownership and charge of her. It would be absurd to suppose that the hawk-catcher, however good a falconer he may be, should act as trainer too, when he has to go out on the morrow, and perhaps for many days afterwards, to entrap other hawks.

Before bedtime, in the long evening of late autumn, a grand attempt should be made to induce the newly-caught hawk to eat. If she was caught early in the day, and had not already breakfasted, it is possible that the attempt may succeed, especially if she is of a placid and philosophic turn of mind. But do not think that success will, even then, be easily achieved. You may very likely have to wait a long time. Different men, of course, have different methods of persuading a newly-caught hawk to feed; but all agree that it is a very difficult job. Many of the books advise the drawing of meat across her feet as she stands on the fist, and repeating this until she begins to pick at it. Perhaps I have never sufficiently tested this plan. I do not think I can honestly say that I have ever drawn the seductive morsel of meat more than a hundred times successively over the feet of the unwilling feeder. But I must confess that the process, even when protracted to this moderate length, is a little tedious. For my own part I have found that, if she is touched lightly on the shoulder with a finger of the right hand, she will generally strike out with open beak in the direction of the offending finger—not, of course, with any idea of eating anything, or even any very defined intention of biting her assailant, but in a mere spirit of anger and defiance. If, then, between the moment of touching her and that when the blow with the beak is struck you can substitute in the place of the finger a juicy slice of raw beef, there is quite a good chance that she will seize it. At the first trial she will not swallow it. Probably she will bate off and make a scene. Nevertheless, a certain taste of very delectable food will linger in her mouth, and when peace is restored she will take note of this. At the second trial she may possibly retain the meat a little longer, and make less ado. By and by a small scrap of it may be torn off before she gets rid of it; and this, if it is at all sticky, and cannot be flipped off with a shake of the head, will be swallowed. Now, if everything is done very gently and quietly, there is a chance that she may strike out again with some real notion that there is food to strike at. Directly she takes the meat and gives anything like a pull at it, let a morsel come off. If the meat is really quite soft it will be easy to manage this. By degrees she will, if hungry, begin to take more kindly to the lesson. As often as you can get a small morsel seized by her, however unwittingly, she will, if only to get rid of it, pull it with her tongue down the natural lane where it is intended to go. And at length she will voluntarily pull through the hood the viands which are so very ready at her service.

Let her then take as much as ever she will. It is not likely to be very much. Keep her either on your own fist or on the fist of some assistant all through the first night, without allowing her to sleep a wink. And until she has fed keep on at times tempting her to do so. Wild-caught hawks may quite well be kept nearly twenty-four hours without food. Eagles may be kept even for two or three days without much injury; and goshawks for a day and a half. But twenty-four hours is too long for a very small hawk, which must have been already hungry when she came to the decoy. And if you can feed any hawk soon after her capture, so much the better. Anything like starvation is now completely tabooed by falconers pretending to any knowledge of their art. To reduce a hawk while in process of reclamation is no more than you will be obliged to do. For it is hopeless to expect to keep a passager, or indeed any trained hawk, in quite such high condition as a wild hawk keeps herself. But a thin hawk is a disgrace to the trainer. If you cannot reclaim your hawk without submitting her to such hunger as will make her weak and poor, you had better abandon falconry and try some less difficult form of sport.