SPARROW-HAWK. 137 
Hawk takes its prey, and the dexterity with which it threads its way 
through the branches at its fullest speed, are quite beyond the powers of 
written description ; they must be witnessed to be fully appreciated. How 
often does the rush of its wings disturb your reverie, as you are, mayhap, 
watching some little chorister a few yards away! and before you have time 
for thought, the little creature in whom you were so interested is quivering 
in death-agony in the talons of this warrior bird. Your presence seems 
totally disregarded, and the Hawk appears only to see its intended victim. 
But its swoop is not always attended with success ; and probably far more 
birds escape than are taken when the chase is a prolonged one. Dixon 
has, amongst many other notes, one to the effect that he was on one occa- 
sion observing a Robin engaged in song, when a Sparrow-Hawk struck at 
it, but missed its intended victim, which at once took refuge with loud cries 
of alarm in the densest part of the thicket. It may be that the sudden 
sight of man disconcerted the Hawk, and caused it to miss its prey. On 
another occasion he witnessed one of these Hawks pursue a Blue Titmouse 
for fully fifty yards up a fence; when the little creature, calling loudly all 
the time, at last managed to gain the shelter of a thick bush. In this 
instance, however, the Hawk perched near at hand, and appeared to be 
waiting for its quarry to again come forth into the open, until it was driven 
reluctantly away by an incautious movement on the part of its observers. 
The moment a bird’ is pursued it endeavours to seek safety in some dense 
cover which the Hawk cannot penetrate, and which no amount of fluttering 
on the part of the Hawk will cause it to quit when once safely reached. 
Numerous, indeed, are the instances on record of this bird’s boldness and 
rapacity, it being almost impossible to read any account of this species 
without coming across some fresh instance of its daring. 
A favourite place to find the Sparrow-Hawk in the evening is in the 
stack-yards, especially in winter, when so many birds are congregated 
there in search of a scanty sustenance. The Chaftinch is, perhaps, the first 
bird to give notice of his approach; for it is one of the wariest of birds, 
and never fails to give the alarm the instant danger threatens. The 
Sparrows clustering so thickly on the corn-stacks, seek the cover of the 
neighbouring thorn-bushes ; and the Buntings and Greenfinches, busy near 
the barn-door, fly upwards into the tall trees or perch on the walls, while 
the Robin utters his sharp “chic” and disappears under the evergreens. 
Between the stacks their enemy comes gliding like a shadow ; their twitter- 
ings increase ; and before one has time for thought, he clutches one of the 
terrified little creatures and is off as quickly as he came. All is now con- 
fusion for a moment; but the alarm soon dies away, and the birds are 
engaged once more in feeding, until his approach again sends terror through 
their ranks and renews their noisy fears. The Sparrow-Hawk always strikes 
its prey with the claws ; and the death-stroke is given by them alone. 
