A WEEK IN THE HILLS 11 



principally of mountain grass, lined plentifully with 

 fur and horsehair. 



Still keeping to the river, with the Sandpipers for 

 company, we reach a spot where the Buzzards have 

 bred time out of mind. Both hawks are on view this 

 morning but show no great degree of anxiety as we 

 approach their eyrie, which, built on a large slab of 

 rock jutting from the hillside, is by no means 

 difficult of access. There are no eggs here as yet, 

 and the birds keep at a respectful distance, now on 

 almost motionless wing, now toying round one another, 

 uttering cries of defiance at our intrusion. 



Their broad tails are spread out fan-like, acting as 

 a rudder in those giddy heights, and the sun at one 

 time glints on their silver-barred underparts, at 

 another on the rich brown of their backs and scapulars 

 as they describe a half-turn. How enormous they 

 look, too ! — and indeed the Buzzard is no mean size, 

 being about two feet in length and four across the 

 wings. In the air it bears a striking resemblance to 

 an eagle in miniature, more especially at a distance. 

 Here their food consists mainly of carrion, such as 

 dead sheep, which at times they find in plenty, but 

 beetles of all kinds and rabbits come by no means 

 amiss to them ; but who will grudge them a leveret 

 or rabbit, or even a sickly grouse ? From their 

 carrion-feeding propensities, then, it must be clear to 

 every one what useful birds they are, and yet in 

 most localities they are ruthlessly shot down and 

 trapped. Unfortunately they are easy birds to trap, 

 liking nothing better than to sit on some recognised 

 bough or crag for hours together, of which habit the 



