A ROOKERY IN SPRING 19 



had literally ' disappeared into the blue,' and had last been seen some half- 

 mile north of the Rookery. 



Knowing something of the art of Falconry, the writer promised to try 

 and take her up if she should put in an appearance — or at least report her 

 whereabouts if he should see her take perch to roost for the night. 



About an hour later he was attracted by the extraordinary behaviour of 

 the Rooks, who suddenly rose up in a great cawing mass above the trees, only 

 to retire, equally suddenly, amongst the branches again. And then the cause 

 of their unrest, in the shape of the lost Falcon, hove in sight. As she passed 

 overhead two things were obvious, one, that she was a trained hawk, for her 

 bells could be heard quite clearly, the other, that she had recently killed and 

 fed up ; her protruding crop was sufficient evidence of that. 



How serenely she sailed along ! 



No wonder, soliloquized the writer, that the Rooks withdrew so hurriedly 

 into the cover of the tree-tops ! For he knew how exceedingly quick they 

 are to avail themselves of any cover, even when they see the Falcon sitting 

 on the Falconer's fist. 



Right overhead she passed, her bells tinkling, her jesses traiUng behind 

 — what a glorious bird ! 



And then a strange and a totally unexpected thing happened. Hardly 

 had she passed over the Rookery than a dozen or so Rooks — feeling perhaps 

 more confident when acting collectively, suddenly dashed out from the trees, 

 and treating this most noble of birds as though she were a common Owl or 

 Buzzard, commenced to mob her in the cheekiest manner. 



So implicit was the writer's faith in the Falcon that he fully expected her 

 to tiu-n and scatter the rude mob. His feelings of disappointment can be 

 better imagined than described, when it is told that not only did the Falcon 

 shift and twist to avoid the stoops of the Rooks, but that she even began to 

 scream vociferously ! 



Yet watchful, clever — and at times even brave — as the Rook undoubtedly 

 is, he is nevertheless on occasions extremely stupid — or unjustifiably con- 

 fiding in his own kind. Watch him, for instance, hard at work labom-ing back- 

 wards and forwards between the nest and the tree from which he gathers his 

 sticks. So intent is he on his work that he does not notice that each time his 

 back is turned a covetous Rook from a neighbouring nest will stealthily creep 

 forward and commence to prod and pull at his hardly-won pile. Nor indeed 

 is it essential that his back should be turned, for sometimes the robbery takes 

 place beneath his very nose — or perhaps one should say ' beak ' — without the 

 least notice being taken. 



He merely adjusts the newest find and straightway starts off in quest of 

 another. 



The question as to how accurate observations of the ways of such birds 



