The Songsters of the Skokie 21 



topmost rail and watched the birds for a few minutes. They 

 paid no attention to me, but suddenly with a whir they rose 

 and went in headlong flight toward the barn. A shadow 

 swept by me. I looked up, and not thirty feet above a hawk 

 was flying by like an arrow. I was to witness a bit of fal- 

 conry. The pursuer gained on the pigeons, and just before 

 they had reached the farm-house the hawk struck the last 

 scurrying bird and bore it to earth. There is generally a shot- 

 gun at hand for use when a hawk dares to approach a farm- 

 house. I fully expected to hear a report, and to have the 

 privilege, if it may be counted one, of looking at a dead bird 

 of prey, but no report came. I afterward found out that no 

 one but myself saw the tragedy, and that had the act been 

 seen it is doubtful if there would have been any shot-gun 

 interference. A farm-hand said that the pigeons had pulled 

 up all the peas and had eaten much more than their share of 

 the planted corn, and that a few pigeons less would be no 

 loss. A few days later the farmer took a hand at pigeon 

 killing himself, and saved his crops by sacrificing his birds. 

 I never knew what species of hawk it was that had a pigeon 

 breakfast so early that morning. It was one of the smaller 

 kinds, and with that knowledge I was forced to be content. 



In the Skokie marsh there are two distinct sloughs. 

 Locally this word is pronounced "slews." In the middle of 

 each there is a thread of open water, which in the early spring 

 is a stream of some magnitude. The sloughs are the homes 

 of many red-winged blackbirds. In the last two or three 

 years, however, the blackbirds have decreased greatly in 

 numbers, though I am at a loss to find a reason. The lush 

 grasses and the flags offer as secure a retreat as before, and 

 civilization has as yet encroached but little upon the red- 



