THE NEW SPORT OF "HAWKING" 



275 



ward night, on the way home, passing a pine grove, I hitched 

 the horse and went in, following a high ridge, pine-clad, that 

 ran through the woods. On one of these trees, overlooking 

 the steep ravine, I saw a fresh nest of good size. As I struck 



SAME NEST AS LAST. WITH YOUNG 



the tree, I expected to see a Red-shoulder flop leisurely off. 

 Instead something left the nest with a dash and a whir, as 

 though it were a projectile shot from a gun. This was typ- 

 ical of Cooper's Hawk, but it was so early in the season that 

 I could not feel assured of the bird's identity till I found my- 

 self gazing at the five bluish-white eggs, marked with a few 

 sparse brown spots, and heard the familiar " cac-cac-cac " 



