AMONG MY TENANTS. 135 



the round domed top of a fluffy nestling whose 

 eyes expressed only vague fear; but the other 

 was the strongly marked head of an old sparrow 

 hawk, who eyed us with keen intelligence. As I 

 stared up, the young one drew back into the hole 

 behind its parent, probably in obedience to her 

 command ; and the old bird bent such an anxious 

 inquiring gaze upon me that I took the hint and 

 rode away to save the poor mother worry. 



These were not the only hawks of the valley. 

 Once, seeing one of the large Buteos winging its 

 way with nesting sticks hanging from its claws, 

 I turned Canello into the field after it, follow- 

 ing till it lit in the top of a high sycamore. 

 The pair were both gathering material. Some- 

 times they flew with the twigs in their claws ; 

 sometimes in their bills ; now they would fly 

 directly to the nest, again circle around the tree 

 before alighting. When one was at work, the 

 other sometimes flew up and soared so high in 

 the sky he looked no larger than a sparrow 

 hawk. In swooping to the ground suddenly, 

 the hawks would hollow in their backs, stick up 

 their tails, drop their legs for ballast, and so let 

 themselves come to earth. While one of the birds 

 was peacefully gathering sticks, two blackbirds 

 attacked it, apparently on general grounds, be- 

 cause it belonged to a family that had been 

 traduced since history began. To tell the honest 

 truth, I trembled a little myself at thought of 



