48 
inside the hut, completes his devices. The butcher bird’s 
actions denote the approach of the migrating hawk—(species, 
age, and sex unknown)—and the hawk catcher pretends to be 
able to determine the distance and quality of the approaching 
migrant by the different intensity of the terror of the 
sentinel. When deemed sufficiently near, the hawk catcher 
pulls the string of the pole pigeon, and causes him to flutter 
forth from his shelter, but so that he can instantly regain 
it at need. This lure is frequently sufficient to draw a 
passing hawk, (probably sharp set) from the clouds, and 
is often instantly followed by the rush of the lofty and 
violent stoop—most grateful of all sounds, to the patient 
ear of the concealed cobbler. In a moment the lure pigeon 
is gone—safe once more in his box. The disappointed hawk 
wheels round, whereupon the cobbler pulls the other poor 
devoted pigeon out of his shelter, and leaves him exposed. 
Down comes the hawk, very often, (seeing nothing wrong) and 
kills and soon begins to eat his prey. It may here be paren- 
thetically stated that nothing will induce a wild falcon to eat a 
morsel of any live bird. She invariably kills it first with incred- 
ible ease and swiftness, by two or three powerful bites at the back 
of the neck, killing a pigeon, grouse, or partridge far faster 
than any human being can with their hands, and usually 
decapitating it as well. This finalé is arranged to take place 
very close to the sweep of a bow net, but the hawk is not 
disposed to relinquish her prey easily, and usually suffers 
herself to be drawn slowly along with it into the reach of the 
bow net. The line is fixed there, and the delighted cobbler 
takes a good hold of the cord or wire that throws the bow net (a 
most clever contrivance), and with one masterly pull, the hawk 
and pigeon are therein, from whence there is no escape. The 
taking of a wild falcon out of a net, without the slightest harm, 
and without even ruffling a feather, is a feat requiring much 
skill and practice; but it is soon done, and a curious arrange- 
ment of canvas and strings, reduces the proud and noble captive 
in a very few minutes, froma denizen of the air, to a motionless 
mummy, lying on its back entirely helpless on the heath, with 
SS 
