1 32 The Birds of Albany County 



ing fowl and carry it off with ease. I once saw a Red-shoulder 

 swoop down on a proud Plymouth Rock rooster of a very 

 large size and slay it with one blow of its powerful, hooked 

 beak. This happened about two rods from where I was 

 standing, and I believe the rooster would have been carried 

 off had I not rushed to the scene of the tragedy and frightened 

 the Hawk away. The only mark I could find on the 

 fowl was a single indentation in the skull. While young and 

 inexperienced I tried one day to capture an adult Red-shoulder 

 alive. I had shot the bird and it had fallen to the ground. 

 When I came up to His Hawkship he was standing erect, 

 with one wing broken, but defiance still gleaming in his wicked 

 eyes. Creeping up to him, I made a sudden grab for his 

 neck. With a lightning-like movement the Hawk raised his 

 nigh foot and seized my wrist, burying his long talons a 

 quarter of an inch in my flesh. It was not until I had 

 crushed the bird to death with my knee that I could extricate 

 my wrist from his grasp. I recall distinctly the expression of 

 lofty pride in those dying eyes, and my sympathies, now, are 

 with the bird, though shortly after the tragedy, glass eyes, 

 wire, and tow, did very well for him. 



The nest of the Red-shoulder is a big affair, placed in a 

 tree at a considerable distance from the ground. The eggs 

 number from three to six and vary in coloration. In a nest 

 once found by my brother there was one plain white egg, one 

 slightly speckled with light brown at the smaller end, a third 

 richly splashed all over with russet and lilac, and a fourth with 

 a light greenish ground, marked all over with dark greenish 

 and light brown. 



