ILLINOIS AUDUBON SOCIETY 



33 



The Story of a Broad-Winged J~Iawk 



(Buteo platypterus plalyteces-Vieill.) 

 One evening I got a telephone call from a man who works with 

 me at times, stating that he had shot what he supposed was a Chicken 

 Hawk. That was in the evening very early in October. The next 

 morning I took my bicycle and beat it up to his place, which lies on the 

 border of Salt Creek in an ideal place for birds and in a place where 

 the Indians used to stop in their travels. Billy Meyers told me that 

 there was a "critter" in the corn-crib for me. The hawk was 

 crippled in the wing but still very much alive and ready to dig his 

 talons into anything which would disturb his peace of mind. I felt 

 a little shy in handling the fellow but I managed to tie his feet to- 

 gether with my handkerchief and rode home, with him under my 

 arm. (Can you imagine riding with one hand on the bicycle and 

 the other hand having my time with the hawk). He behaved pretty 

 well though, much to my surprise and elation. On arriving home 

 1 put him in a big screen cage which I had used during the summer 

 months for raising larvae in. Here he thrived pretty well for a time 

 on water, grasshoppers, frogs, English sparrows, which I captured 

 at night in their roosting place in the vines. When the weather be- 

 came severely cold in the shop, I put him in the basement. Once 

 in awhile I bought a piece of liver, or a scrap of meat of some sort, 

 or captured an English sparrow or two under the old method of 

 pulling a string and dropping a screen over them. It was extreme- 

 ly interesting to watch him pluck the feathers off of the body of the 

 sparrows. He used his beak just as we mortals use our fingers. 

 The bird was left loose in the basement after a time and got very 

 tame and confiding. One time I gave him the carcass of a muskrat, 

 which he ate very greedily. Water seemed to be the essential thing 

 in feeding. The bird after a few months became better and would 

 fly from one end of the basement to the other and became very expert 

 in flying but here is the most remarkable of all. He became so tame, 

 so unsuspicious and confiding that we could pet and stroke him very 

 readily. When my mother was 

 washing he would sit for hours 

 on the wash-ringer as the ringer 

 was turned. I wish I could have 

 taken a picture of him in that 

 amusing position but may it 

 be sufficient to say that it is no 

 fish story. When we went up 

 stairs he would fly over to the 

 steps and could not seem to 

 understand where we disap- 

 peared to. When we came 

 down later he would be wait- 

 ing and almost always perching 

 on one leg. The only note 

 which I heard was a note 

 which I would call a peeping 

 note, verv much like the note 



