94 THE RED-TAILED HAWK. 



an unworthy opponent, rising to heights where the braggart 

 is dazed and bewildered and loses his reckoning! I am not 

 sure but it is worthy of imitation." 



The tube of my shot-gun cleared, I return early in the 

 afternoon in search of the Gray Rabbit. I have no difficulty 

 in tracing his track in the fresh snow, but what a zigzag 

 course he has taken! I seem -to have traveled miles, and 

 yet am only a few rods from the place of starting. Alas! 

 poor Rabbit! I have reached the end of his career, and find 

 simply a great spot of blood on the snow, with bunches of 

 hair and a few bones. While I am trying to conjecture the 

 author of this tragedy, I look up to the top of a tall tree 

 quite near and spy a Red-tailed Hawk motionless as a 

 statue. He is probably the one I saw soaring so majesti- 

 cally a few hours ago, and is now resting in favor of diges- 

 tion, after gorging himself with the missing Rabbit, Some- 

 what annoyed at the extent of the meal, but more over the 

 loss of my game, I take aim and bring him to the ground. 

 He must lose his life in penalty of gluttony. Ordinarily, 

 he would not have allowed the hunter to come near enough 

 to reach him with a shot-gun. He is only wounded, how- 

 ever, and rearing himself on claws and tail, assumes a most 

 formidable attitude of defense. With superciliary ridges 

 projecting far over his eyes, which gleam with vengeance, 

 with mouth wide open and crest erect, what a savage physi- 

 ognomy he presents! And in what a threatening manner 

 he raises his powerful wings! ' Hands off!" is the language 

 of his whole expression, as bill, wings and claws are in equal 

 readiness for blows and wounds. I extend to him the 

 muzzle of the gun, which he grasps so firmly with both 

 talons that I carry him home before he relinquishes his 

 hold. Nailing slats across a large box, I attempt to keep 

 my bird in confinement, placing food before him regularly. 



