A BI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE 



DEVOTED TO THE STUDY AND PROTECTION OF BIRDS 



Official Organ of The Audubon Societies 



Vol. XV January— February, 1913 No. 1 



The Duck Hawks of Taughannock Gorge 



By A. A, ALLEN and H. K. KNIGHT 



With photographs by H. K. Knight 



WHEN the glaciers receded from central New York, they left a series 

 of long, narrow basins that have come to be known as the 'Finger 

 Lakes.' Before the time of the glaciers, these lakes were rivers 

 whose waters poured into a great sea to the north. Tongues of ice, forcing 

 their way through the stream beds, gouged them out hundreds of feet in depth, 

 and frequently filled their tributaries with debris. When the ice receded, 

 these tributaries were left stranded, as it were, high above the lake, and were 

 forced to cut new channels and to drop their waters hundreds of feet to its 

 level. Harder layers of rock capped softer ones, and prevented the formation 

 of long, gentle slopes from the head waters to the lake. Instead, the water- 

 falls were preserved almost intact. The streams succeeded in cutting back 

 but comparatively short distances toward their sources, but in so doing, 

 formed deep, steep-sided ravines containing high falls or series of cascades. 

 One of the deepest of these is that formed by Taughannock Creek flowing into 

 Cayuga Lake. This gorge extends for nearly a mile, and its sides rise over 

 300 feet in places. At its head is a magnificent waterfall whose sheer drop 

 is 212 feet. The gorge itself is between 200 and 300 yards wide, and is well 

 wooded. The tree growth extends high up the talus slope footing the cliffs, 

 which in turn rise perpendicularly over 200 feet above the tree tops. The cliffs 

 are formed of soft shale, principally, but there are a number of harder layers 

 which, because of their resistance to weathering, jut out in the form of ledges. 

 A Peregrine Falcon, following the migrating flocks of Ducks and Shore 

 Birds, espied this cleft in the earth and chose it for his aerie. He and his descend- 

 ants may have nested there for ages, but it was not until the summer of 1909 

 that their presence was made known to us. Then the screams of the parent 

 birds, as they brought in the prey to the fledglings, proclaimed to Fuertes and 

 Eaton their presence in the glen. The two following years the nest was located 

 in an unapproachable position, a third of the way down the face of the cliff. 

 An overhanging ledge shut off all view from above, but from the bottom of the 



