Some Notes on the White-legged Falconet.



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fluffed himself out, preened his feathers and cleaned his feet, after

which he considered his toilet finished and composed himself to rest.


The following morning, on visiting the cage, I found that he

had made an attack on one of the Woodpeckers, for there were many

of its feathers lying in tufts on the ground, but with them were some

white ones, evidently from the breast of the Falconet himself, so I

concluded he had been worsted and would leave them alone in

future. Not a bit of it, however, he was only biding his time and

meant retaliation as soon as possible. That day I saw nothing more

in the way of bullying. The Kestrels he seemed to realize were a

kind of “ poor relation,” and as long as they cringed to him and

were utterly subservient in every way, not daring to sit on his

particular perch, he left them alone. He also condescended to eat

one or two fat locusts and drank a great deal of water, but most of

his time he spent seated on the highest available perch at one end

of the aviary, where he surveyed his domain and his subjects.


The next day I gave him a couple of live Sparrows, and one

of these he killed and ate whilst I was away in office, so what I saw

done on my return therefrom was not an act impelled by hunger.


For the convenience of my pair of Woodpeckers I had placed

in this aviary some long logs of wood, one of which passed directly

under the throne of the Falconet. This log had been carefully avoided

during the morning by the two birds, but familiarity, I suppose, had

begun to breed contempt, for as I was passing the cage in the after¬

noon I saw one of the Woodpeckers run up the log and under the

throne. In a second, the Falconet had swooped and knocked his

bulky opponent off on to the ground, but that was the extent of his

victory on this occasion, for, on falling to the ground the Wood¬

pecker, as is the custom of these birds in such emergencies, turned

on its back and presented such formidable beak and claws to the

falcon’s attack that the latter retired, pretending to be satisfied with

the damage inflicted.


For some days all went on well, and the Falconet was content

with killing such small birds as I gave him for the purpose, varying

his diet with insect food of all kinds, but refusing entirely to eat the

carcase of any dead bird placed in the cage. He even became

reconciled to me sufficiently to eat when I was within a few feet of



