THE SPARROWHAWK. 281 



Windhover, only there is a certain stiffness^ — if I may 

 use the term in describing the motions of one so grace- 

 ful — about his flight, that at once informs you the terror 

 of the woods and fields is abroad in search of prey. 

 Though his motions, however, are sometimes similar to 

 the Windhover, still the little birds know him at once as 

 their mortal enemy. See with what alarm the Starlings 

 pack together and scurry off at his approach ; or notice 

 the actions of the Finches, struck dumb and motionless 

 with terror, as he sails on high above them. Yet should 

 the Windhover appear in sight no alarm prevails, and 

 they let him perch on the trees at hand without even 

 stopping their merry warbles. But like many tyrants, 

 the Sparrowhawk sometimes comes to grief. Witness 

 the Rooks, how they mob him when he happens to ap- 

 proach too near the trees which contain their helpless 

 young ; and the smaller birds, how they sometimes pack 

 together, and, trusting for safety in unity, chase him 

 hither and thither in the circumambient air. He seems 

 to mind these attacks but little, appearing to enjoy their 

 feeble attempts to annoy him ; though he will often 

 turn, poise himself for a moment, and then like an arrow 

 from a bow swoop amongst the now terrified songsters, 

 and bear one of their number off in an instant. And 

 yet the Sparrowhawk, notwithstanding his actions, which, 

 though they appear harsh and tyrannical to man, are 

 only those the designing hand of Nature has taught him 

 to practise, is always a bird I view with pleasure. With 

 his long tail and rapidly moving pinions, short neck and 

 dark slate-coloured plumage, truly he looks a bird of 

 death. Yet, withal, he is a splendid ornament to our 

 rural scenery, and it is with me one of the most pleasing 

 sights to see him dart swiftly and silently past me, when 



