IKK (JOI/KilSr. 



55 



torment of careless boys who come to 

 kill the meadowlarks or other sweet 

 singers on his master's place. 



Such was my outfit, and I struck off 

 into the hills like Ponce de Leon on the 

 quest of his fountain of youth. Close 

 together, like the three comrades that 

 we were, we crossed the first low range 

 of hills and then let ourselves down 

 into a canyon filled with low live oaks, 

 here and there a lofty sycamore rear- 

 ing its white head gaunt against the 

 blue of the California sky. 



It was almost noon when we came to 

 this place, and so far I had found just 

 seven nests of the big hawks, most of 

 them filled with green leaves, but none 

 containing eggs. Heartily tired I sat 

 down to eat my lunch beneath one of 

 the oaks, while the dogs bathed and 

 played in the creek below, when, glanc- 

 ing up I, saw, fitted close in against 

 the trunk of one of the largest of the 

 sycamores, a rough nest, huge of out- 

 line and surmounted by the head of a 

 hawk ! 



Lunch was forgotten. I ran down to 

 the base of the great trunk, which 

 could not have been less than three feet 

 in diameter, and rapped excitedly with 

 my hatchet. There was a scream from 

 above, a sound as of flapping wings, 

 and an immense, hawk flew away 

 through the tree tops. The way I went 

 up that tree was a circus and I have no 

 doubt that, if dogs laugh, the sides of 

 both of mine were sore when I came 

 back to earth. 



The tree was too large to climb 

 without irons and of these I had none, 

 so I had to crawl into the tree on a low 

 hanging branch. Once there it was an 

 easy climb up to the nest. 



Judging from all appearances, I 

 should have found at least a set of 

 three ; what I got was two monstrous, 

 badly incubated eggs, evidently a full 

 set, beautifully marked, unusual in 

 size, but too few to be typical. In 

 nine cases out of ten, when a Red tail's 



nest contains only two eggs, the set is 

 incomplete, though sometimes the fe- 

 male lays a second set of only two 

 when, for some reason she has been de- 

 prived of her first S3t. 



When I had rested from this climb I 

 started down through the oaks and 

 about the first thing I did was to rouse 

 a Long eared owl off six nice fresh eggs 

 in an old crow's nest only a few feet 

 from the ground in an oak sapling. I 

 never saw one of these owls accept a 

 deserted nest in so unstable a position 

 but I expect Madam Owl knew more 

 about this than I did, but I have her 

 set yet. Then I began to investigate 

 the old crow's nests more closely, with 

 the result that, in the next hour, I 

 took two more fine sets of the Long 

 eared and found a family of three 

 young Pacific Horned Owl. These large 

 owls usually lay their eggs in January 

 or February, so that their youngsters 

 had a long way the start of the long 

 ears. 



I flushed a number of young Barn 

 owls, birds of the year passed, from 

 among these empty crows' nests, and I 

 judge that they were making use of 

 them as roosting places and hunting 

 lodges, for their home nests, I well 

 knew, were several miles away in a 

 honey combed cliff on the edge of a 

 large canon. 



The Red tails seem to sort of shun the 

 oaks except in very rare cases, so I 

 paid little attention to many of the old 

 crow nests until I came in sight of 

 one visible from all sides. It was in 

 the upright fork of a vertical limb of a 

 giant oak, fully forty feet from the 

 ground and without a limb for the last 

 half of that distance. On the nest in 

 plain sight, sat Mrs. Red tail, calmly 

 watching my movements and not deign- 

 ing to fly until I rapped her tree heav- 

 ily several times. Then she left with 

 a rush and a scream, rising to join her 

 mate, hanging on motionless wings 

 far up in the heavens. 



