336 FISH HAWK, OR OSPREY. 
our rivers in such prodigious multitudes. Two of a trade, it 1s said, 
seldom agree ; the adage, however, will not hold good in the present 
case, for such is the respect paid the Fish Hawk, not only by this 
class of men, but, generally, by the whole neighborhood where it re- 
sides, that a person who should attempt to shoot one of them, would 
stand a fair chance of being insulted. This prepossession in favor of 
the Fish Hawk is honorable to their feelings. They associate, with 
its first appearance, ideas of plenty, and all the gaiety of business ; 
they see it active and industrious like themselves; inoffensive to the 
productions of their farms; building with confidence, and without the 
least disposition to concealment, in the middle of their fields, and 
along their fences; and returning, year after year, regularly to its for- 
mer abode. 
The nest of the Fish Hawk is usually built on the top of a dead or 
decaying tree, sometimes not more than fifteen, often upwards of fifty 
feet, from the ground. It has been remarked by the people of the sea- 
coasts, that the most thriving tree will die in a few years after being 
taken possession of by the Fish Hawk. This is attributed to the fish 
oil, and to the excrements of the bird; but is more probably occasion- 
ed by the large heap of wet salt materials of which the nest is usually 
composed. In my late excursions to the sea shore, I ascended to sev- 
eral of these nests that had been built in from year to year, and found 
them constructed as follows: Externally, large sticks, from half an 
inch to an inch and a half in diameter, and two or three feet in length, 
piled to the height of four or five feet, and from two to three feet in 
breadth; these were intermixed with corn-stalks, sea-weed, pieces of 
wet turf, in large quantities, mullein-stalks, and lined with dry sea- 
grass ; the whole forming a mass very observable at half a mile’s dis- 
tance, and large enough to fill a cart, and be no inconsiderable load 
for a horse. These materials are so well put together, as often to 
adhere, in large fragments, after being blown down by the wind. My 
learned and obliging correspondent of New York, Dr. Samuel L. 
Mitchill, observes, that “ A sort of superstition is entertained in regard 
to the Fish Hawk, It has been considered a fortunate incident to 
have a nest, and a pair of these birds, on one’s farm. They have, 
therefore, been generally respected; and neither the axe nor the gun 
has been lifted against them. Their nest continues from year to year. 
The same couple, or another, as the case may be, occupies it, season 
after season. Repairs are duly made, or, when demolished by storms, 
itis industriously rebuilt. There was one of these nests, formerly, 
upon the leafless summit of a venerable chestnut-tree on our farm, 
directly in front of the house, at the distance of less than half a mile. 
The withered trunk and boughs, surmounted by the coarse wrought 
and capacious nest, was a more picturesque object than an obelisk: 
and the flights of the Hawks, as they went forth to hunt—returned 
with their game — exercised themselves in wheeling round and round, 
and circling about it— were amusing to the beholder, almost from 
morning to night. The family of these Hawks, old and young, was 
killed by the Hessian Jagers. A succeeding pair took possession of 
the nest; but, in the course of time, the prongs of the trunk so rotted 
away, that the nest could no longer be supported. The Hawks have 
been obliged to seek new quarters. We ha-e lost this part of our 
