266



Mr. Reginald Phillipps ;



contempt, I withdrew into my shell.—Before separating, we agreed

to come back in a few days’ time.


On more than one occasion, I had taken say a couple of

youngsters from a nest, and, a little later, had compared my “ bring¬

ings up ” with those which had been left behind. I had tried this

with Kestrels and had found that, however much care I might

bestow on the little ones, the parents could beat me hollow in the

rearing of young birds. It is not solely a matter of food, but there

are also the tender nursing and the gentle warmth of the parent-

birds brooding over their offspring which can only be feebly imitated

by man ; and, bearing this in mind, I knew it would be a mistake to

take the young hawks at so early a date as that decided upon—but

farmer Innes had to be reckoned with ! These sturdy old-fashioned

farmers of long ago, notwithstanding their out-of-date methods of

farming, were splendid fellows of untold value to the nation, and

they had their own little way of dealing with hawks’ nests when

chickens went too fast. As soon as they could spare the time,

taking up their double-barrelled muzzle-loader from its corner (a

novel weapon with Innes, who still had an old flint-lock in service¬

able condition), they would lie in wait at the foot of the tree if

necessary for hours; sooner or later an old bird would venture to

return, one barrel directed with a certain aim would bring it to the

ground, the other would be fired into the bottom of the nest, and off

our friend would go feeling that he had done his duty—by his

chickens. I remember examining a Kestrel’s nest which had been

thus treated. One well-feathered nestling had been hit with that

second barrel, and the survivors had fallen upon it tooth and nail

and had left practically nothing but the frame, the large feathers and

the head—usually the first part attacked, but it had proved an over-

hard nut for them to crack. They w T ere so ravenous that, presum¬

ably the other parent had been too panic-stricken to return to the

nest.


The appointed day found the three of us once more at the

tree, and I was quickly among the branches. On this occasion the

old birds were bolder, and with wild cries were sweeping around;

and they made bold and threatening swoops in my direction as I

neared the nest. The sky was bright and clear, but I could not see



