142 A YOUNG MARSH HAWK 



equally well, and when put out in a shower 

 would sit down and take it as if every drop did 

 him good. 



His legs developed nearly as slowly as his 

 wings. He could not stand steadily upon them 

 till about ten days before he was ready to fly. 

 The talons were limp and feeble. When we 

 came with food he would hobble along toward 

 us like the worst kind of a cripple, dropping 

 and moving his wings, and treading upon his 

 legs from the foot back to the elbow, the foot 

 remaining closed and useless. Like a baby 

 learning to stand, he made many trials before he 

 succeeded. He would rise up on his trembling 

 legs only to fall back again. 



One day, in the summer-house, I saw him 

 for the first time stand for a moment squarely 

 upon his legs with the feet fully spread beneath 

 them. He looked about him as if the world 

 suddenly wore a new aspect. 



His plumage now grew quite rapidly. One 

 red squirrel per day, chopped fine with an axe, 

 was his ration. He began to hold his game 

 with his foot while he tore it. The study was 

 full of his shed down. His dark brown mot- 

 tled plumage began to grow beautiful. The 

 wings drooped a little, but gradually he got con- 

 trol of them and held them in place. 



It was now the 20th of July, and the hawk 

 was about five weeks old. In a day or two he 

 was walking or jumping about the ground. He 

 chose a position under the edge of a Norway 

 spruce, where he would sit for hours dozing, oi 



