84 Bird - Lore 



is not present in similar clefts in the rock face of the Palisades^ in which earth 

 falling from above cannot lodge, it is probable that the remnants of food left 

 by these birds year after year have formed sufficient soil to give grass an oppor- 

 tunity to flourish — silent but convincing testimony that Peregrines have 

 always, figuratively speaking, fed and raised their broods upon this shelf over- 

 looking the Hudson. Just twenty-four years ago, a friend sketched the nest 

 and spot occupied, that spring, by some ancestors, doubtless, of our present 

 family. The female today sitting upon her eggs turned her head so that first 

 one eye and then the other glared at us as we watched her. The slate-colored 

 back and dark wings, darker than the rock, suggested black shadows in the 

 depths of similar holes and clefts. The bright yellow cere and light buff plumage 

 of the throat were interrupted by her black bill. Why should color-protection 

 be necessary for so capable a bird? Of the wild creatures, only a Crow would 

 do harm to unprotected Peregrine nests situated in such wild and inaccessible 

 places. 



The sun coming out, the rich plumage of the sitting Falcon, the shelf in the 

 precipitous face of the cliff, and the fringe of green grass directly in front of the 

 bird, presented a splendid scene. I finally climbed to a point nearly over her, 

 and she left her nest, revealing four eggs. Their color blended well with the 

 rock on which they were lying, just behind the green grass. The female, now 

 in the air, made the squawking sovind similar to, but hoarser than, that of 

 the male bird. 



On April i6, we reached Clinton Point at 6.30 a.m. Clouds covered the sky, 

 the accompaniment of an April shower. The female was at the moment return- 

 ing to her nest, possibly from a foraging expedition across the river. When she 

 saw us, she perched upon a projecting tree, while her mate circled about, 

 calling. A sudden snow-squall swept over. We withdrew for a time, fearing 

 that the eggs, still unhatched, might be injured by her prolonged absence from 

 the nest. Shortly the clouds broke, the morning sun illuminated the sheer 

 cliffs confronting the east, and in the flood of bright light the breast of the 

 sitting Falcon shone as a white spot set in the dark gray rock. 



Our next visit was on April 24, but we remained only long enough to see 

 that there were now but three eggs. On April 30, two eggs had hatched; pre- 

 sumably the two others had been failures. The young birds were covered with 

 grayish white down, and apparently had been hatched some days before. 

 While able to hold up their heads, they could not as yet use their legs. Many 

 feathers were lying on the ledge, indications that the parent Falcons had had 

 good hunting. It was difficult at that distance to identify them, but several 

 were the size and shape of the wing feathers of domestic Pigeons. Besides 

 these, two bright yellow ones lying in full view probably came from the wing 

 of a Flicker. The female Falcon was, on this occasion, even more noisy and 

 solicitous than on any of our previous visits. Since we saw the four eggs first 

 on April 9, and they did not hatch until just after the 24th, incubation must 



