186 THE PLOUGHING 



latter, stowed away at the end of a three or four-foot 

 tunnel in the sand of the river bank, can never have 

 been violated by a hawk. But, be the reason what 

 it may, the Kestrel is seldom without a crowd of 

 hostile attendants of this species in their season, 

 and when, as is often the case, their number reaches 

 several hundreds, darting above, below, and about 

 it, one would expect the Kestrel to become 

 exasperated and run amok of them, even if in 

 futile rage. Such is never the case. Save that the 

 hawk circles aside when the press becomes too thick, 

 flies rapidly ahead, or darts in among the inner 

 branches of a tree (whither no bird will follow) to 

 escape from them, it manifests no sign of resentment. 

 An impatient chatter may escape it now and again, 

 but it circles out immediately, heads up to the wind, 

 and hovering over one spot, with tail spread out 

 horizontally in a strong wind, and depressed in a 

 weak one, watches as if with undivided attention for 

 its furry prey below. 



In the present instance, Starlings, not Sand- 

 martins, were the assailants. Their method of attack 

 is wholly different from that of the Sand-martins. 

 The latter are free-lances, and only band themselves 

 together in irregular companies to bewilder their 

 enemy by the very multiplicity of their attack ; the 

 Starlings, however, are marshalled in solid formation, 

 and attack en masse, sweeping down in orderly flight 

 like a small black cloud upon the Kestrel. The Sand- 

 martins, trusting to their power of flight, will fire up 

 at the Hawk from below ; but the Starlings continue 

 to rise as the Kestrel rises, and to hold it always 

 shadowed beneath them. 



