NEST AND YOUNG OF MARSH HAWK 



CHAPTER XV 



A pair of falcons, wheeling on the wing, 

 In clamorous agitation, round the crest 

 Of a tall rock, their airy citadeL 



WORDSWORTH. 



THE annual spring hunt for hawks' nests appeals to 

 me as a sport by itself, a unique excitement that 

 stirs the blood with a peculiar thrill. It begins 

 when the woods and fields first emit their spring fragrance, 

 to which one's blood, stagnated by indoor toil, responds 

 with new bounds of life. It means strenuous, yet joyous, 



