1 82 Drifting 



only with a field-glass. Every movement sug- 

 gested freedom from care as they romped in 

 the fields of space. It is not strange that 

 they scream, or laugh, shall we say ? when 

 speeding along at such rate and in no danger 

 of collision. If I mistake not, the cry of 

 exultation is coincident with the downward 

 swoop, and I thought of old-time yelling 

 when dashing down a snow-clad hill-side; 

 but how sober was the work of dragging the 

 sled up-hill ! The hawks, I thought, were 

 silent when upward bound. If so, there is 

 something akin to humanity in the hawk 

 nature. 



I have called the cry of the fish-hawk a 

 " laugh," but, from a human stand-point, do 

 birds laugh ? It is extremely doubtful, though 

 I recall a pet sparrow-hawk that was given 

 to playing tricks, as I called them, and the 

 whole family believed that this bird actually 

 laughed. Muggins, as we named him, had a 

 fancy for pouncing upon the top of my head 

 and, leaning forward, snapping his beak in my 

 face. Once an old uncle came into the room 

 and was treated in this fashion. Never having 

 seen the bird before, he was greatly aston- 

 ished, and indignant beyond measure when 



