THE ARREDONDO SPARROW HAWK 15 



And there old Dick's mate lay in the sunshine until the 

 ants, which soon swarmed over her, had consumed her 

 flesh, and the feathers went dancing before the wind across 

 the stubble of the rice field. 



It has sometimes been claimed that eagles mate for life, 

 and that if one of a pair is killed the surviving member 

 will never mate again. The same has been said of swans 

 and some other birds. I do not know if these things be 

 true, but I do know that the Arredondo sparrow hawk, 

 bereft of his companion, did not mate again during the 

 three subsequent years in which I knew him. 



He did not appear to miss his mate until the warm days 

 of January came. Then the swelling buds and the soft 

 winds from the Gulf began to sing weird, sweet strains in 

 his ears. Out of the woods he came bounding one bright 

 morning, and circled on strong wings about the orange 

 grove. He called and signaled as he cleaved the air above 

 the rice field in his graceful flight. But there was none to 

 answer him, no bright eye to follow his movements on his 

 aerial parade ground, for no fond spectator sat on the 

 top of the dead pine tree. 



Day after day he came in vain to their try sting place. 

 Day after day his yearning heart was unstilled, and his 

 eager eyes sought through sky and field and forest his lost 

 companion. One day with food in his talons he flew up to 



