14 —Digesting an inch of meat and bone per hour. 
but in the plate that ought to show this he apparently closed his 
eye just as I exposed. After dozing, he partly preened himself 
while brooding the young. He sneezed four or five times and also 
yawned. Shortly after 8 am. he yelped and looked up as if 
watching the Falcon overhead, then. stepped off the young and, 
jumping on to C, flew off. There then followed a good deal of yelp- 
ing out of sight, and the young began to stir and whimper, the 
nearest female gaping; I saw the claws for the last time; this 
time inside her mouth. 
At 8.8 a.m. the Tiercel brought a small bird, unidentified, 
and fed them. The young female with the claws stood in the back 
row most of the time and did not seem hungry. I saw her get a 
lump once, but could not be sure of more. If any little bits 
dropped during a meal, the Tiercel carefully picked them up and 
presented them again. The males generally got the smallest bits, 
and one of them was nearly always in front of the others. I saw 
one young male this time get four helpings in succession. One of 
the young females got a leg given to her and the Tiercel swallowed 
the other. This meal lasted from 8.8 to 8.20 a.m., after which he 
brooded them and it began to drizzle. At 8.40 a.m. I heard the 
Tiercel yapping, and, looking out, found him engaged in feeding. 
As what he was using looked like scraps, and I had not heard him 
or the Falcon give the food cry, I concluded it was the remainder 
of the 8.8 a.m. meal. He swallowed the last pieces himself, 
including a leg. As this would make the quarry three-legged, 
I expect the young female must have disgorged hers while she was 
being brooded. This feed only lasted two or three minutes. I 
had a bad bout of coughing just about this time owing to some 
tobacco smoke going the wrong way; but although he evidently 
heard me, cocking his head on one side and looking puzzled, he was 
not in any way upset, for which I was sincerely grateful. At 
g a.m. it stopped raining, but there was no sun. At 9.46 he got 
off the young, jumped on to C and flew off. I heard him wailing 
in the distance; it sounds exactly like the hungry whimper of the 
full-fledged young—a long-drawn ‘‘ way-ee,” and is the food cry: 
Three minutes later I heard his wings close as he dropped into the 
eyrie with a plucked and partly-skinned puffin. I identified it by 
