on the Finding of a Treasure.



269



marks on the tree shewed that some one had been up there before

me; and, on finding one young bird in the nest, I felt that it

was one more than I might have hoped for: probably it had

been left temporarily on the chance that a shot might be had at the

surviving parent; for there was a large farm-house in the front, not

very far away, with chickens galore. It was nearly fully feathered,

but had been over-exposed, for it had a vocal defect in its call, which

experience had already taught me meant death ; and in course of

time it sickened and died in the manner described below.


In each of these three cases, the nest was Crow-like: in fact,

doubtless each was that of a Carrion Crow in which young had

been reared earlier in the year ; for the Hobby is a late breeder, not

laying its eggs until June.


In no case did I see the egg. Howard Saunders says,—

“ The eggs, usually 3 in England, but up to 5 in number on the

Continent, are often yellowish-white, closely freckled with rufous,

and can then be easily distinguished from those of the Kestrel;

but sometimes they are suffused with reddish-brown and are

therefore not so recognizable.”


Doubtless, in England at any rate, this species has but one

brood in the year.


The Hobby is a summer visitor to this country ; and, what¬

ever the adults may be, the young are not robust. I used to keep

my hawks loose in a large loft, with netting over the “ window,”

and, on fine days, would place any nestlings I might have in a

basket, which I suspended from a bough in a quiet unfrequented

part of the shrubbery, with the result that, as they grew to be

branchers, they learned their way about and to know me, my whistle,

and my dog. Kestrels and Sparrow-Haw T ks flourished under this

treatment; but I found that if a Hobby, even when well feathered,

were exposed to wind, it would have its voice affected, and, when

once so touched, would certainly die. Eor some two months, the

crack in the voice would be the only apparent symptom of mischief ;

but eventually the invalid would become puffy, a greenish discharge

would flow from its mouth, and it would die from some bronchial

trouble. Thus even in those far-off days I learned that a too free

and general application of the fresh-air treatment will leave some



