THE ROBBERS OF THE FALLS 



half an hour we felt pretty well cramped. Ned com- 

 plained that his neck ached like fury, and mine was in 

 the same condition. The hawks were still alarmed 

 and something was evidently wrong. 



"I don't believe it's the camera that disturbs them," 

 I said to Ned. "I think they know we have not gone. 

 What do you say to going off out of sight, making 

 plenty of racket as you go, and see if the birds can count 

 and remember there was another fellow?" 



"All right," he replied, and he left me, secretly glad, 

 I am sure, to straighten out the kinks in his persecuted 

 neck. 



He had not been gone two minutes before the yelling 

 ceased. There was dead silence awhile, and then I 

 saw a hawk alight in a tree near the nest. Next she 

 flew to another branch, and then glided right on to the 

 nest and stood erect, looking and listening. This was 

 my chance, and steadily and slowly I pulled the thread 

 taut. The hawk gave no sign of having heard the 

 shutter and settled down to brood. I gave her ten 

 minutes to get over her alarm and watched her through 

 my field glass. Now and then she would turn her head 

 and then would settle back with a sleepy air, just like 

 an old sitting hen. 



The exciting question now was whether or not the 

 shutter had sprung, or had the thread got tangled. 

 Quietly I crawled out from my retreat and away fronr 

 it, so as not to show the hawk where I had hidden. 

 As soon as I walked boldly, she flew, and I hurried to 



41 



