126 WITH THE WOOBLANDERS. 



those gifted calculators of gun-shot distance, that 

 roost in the torey-grass of the hillside like larks, 

 and are now chattering and skirling to each other 

 about their spring visit to Norway and other places 

 over the water, I have never seen one of them, 

 nor the remains of any, that had been killed by 

 a hawk. 



There is one wood joining this estate where, 

 from some reason best known to the hawks them- 

 selves, they nest regularly. Three, four, and some- 

 times five nests have been found in this fir-wood, 

 which is only a small one. When the full com- 

 plement of eggs has been laid, or the young hatched 

 out, the keepers make a raid on their favourite 

 nesting site. They take the eggs, kill the young 

 and the old birds if they can, for sparrow-hawks 

 are keen and wary birds to deal with. I have 

 known a lot of scheming done before a small male 

 sparrow - hawk has been brought to book. Old 

 females, grey on the back, with their breasts 

 beautifully barred, that look more like small male 

 goshawks than what they really are, will, like the 

 goshawk they so closely resemble, kill anything 

 from a pheasant to a partridge, a rabbit, or a 



