THE MARSH HAWK lU 



came to the nest afterward. Every egg hatched, 

 I was told, and the little chicks, hardly bigger 

 than bumblebees, were led away by the mother 

 into the fields. 



In about a week I paid another visit to the 

 hawk's nest. The eggs were all hatched, and the 

 mother bird was hovering near. I shall never 

 forget the curious expression of those young 

 hawks sitting there on the ground. The expres- 

 sion was not one of youth, but of extreme age. 

 Such an ancient, infirm look as they had, — the 

 sharp, dark, and shrunken look about the face 

 and eyes, and their feeble, tottering motions! 

 They sat upon their elbows and the hind part of 

 their bodies, and their pale, withered legs and 

 feet extended before them in the most helpless 

 fashion. Their angular bodies were covered with 

 a pale yellowish down, like that of a chicken ; 

 their heads had a plucked, seedy appearance ; 

 and their long, strong, naked wings hung down 

 by their sides till they touched the ground: 

 power and ferocity in the first rude draught, 

 shorn of everything but its sinister ughness. An- 

 other curious thing was the gradation of the 

 young in size ; they tapered down regularly from 

 the first to the fifth, as if there had been, as prob- 

 ably there was, an interval of a day or two be- 

 tween the hatchings. 



