278 ART AND PRACTICE OF HAWKING 



and would not throw off his goshawk. However, when the 

 rabbit was on dry land he went so well that Mr. Riley let the hawk 

 go. The rabbit was caught ; and when he was taken from the 

 hawk he was found to be quite dry ! But whether his wet skin 

 had been dried up by terror or by the violence of his exertions, or 

 how else, is a mystery still unsolved. One day, having had bad 

 luck with partridges, Sir Tristram, owned and trained by the 

 same gentleman, was indulged with a pigeon. The big pointer 

 included in the party, and which was a great ally of the goshawk, 

 was at the time roaming about. As the hawk was pluming the 

 pigeon on the ground, the dog came romping along. But when 

 he had accidentally got within eight yards of Sir Tristram, the 

 latter left his meal, and, flying straight for the pointer, gave him 

 a good sound box on the ear, which sent him flying, the hawk 

 then returning, well satisfied, to his food. 



Hawks have been known to kill quarry with a leash and 

 swivel still attached to their jesses. I have known a merlin 

 with a long leash on follow a lark up in rings several hundred 

 feet high, but she could not get on terms with him. What is, 

 however, perhaps still more astonishing, I have seen a merlin with 

 a whole dead lark in her foot pursue and strike down one that 

 was uninjured. I was with a friend in a very open place. Each 

 of us had a merlin to fly ; and we walked different ways. My 

 chance came first ; and the lark, after a flight of moderate length, 

 was taken under some open railings surrounding a dry pond. 

 Hardly was this flight over, and the hawk beginning to plume 

 her lark, when my friend's hawk started after a lark from the 

 opposite side of the pond. This lark happened also to make 

 for the same place — not that the railings were at all likely to 

 save him, but because he thought he could dodge round and 

 round the posts and under the bars, and so put off the fatal 

 moment. Larks seem often to think that any shelter is better 

 than none at all. Accordingly, round and round the rails this 

 second lark twisted and turned, passing sometimes within a 

 yard or two of the place where my hawk stood on her dead 

 lark watching the fun. The other hawk meanwhile made shot 

 after shot, but could not foot her quarry. "She" — that was 

 the name of my merlin — looked on more and more excitedly. 

 At last she could stand it no longer, but getting up, dead lark 

 and all, she mounted a bit and stooped. As the lark was diving 

 underneath a rail she hit it, first shot, with a resounding whack — 

 not with her feet, for they were both encumbered by the dead 

 quarry, but with the dead quarry itself! The lark was, of course, 



