624 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



than ever. Blackie, of the evil temper, 

 stood and cursed until I left. 



The half hour's observation from the 

 blind showed that the young were moving 

 around very freely. Often one would run 

 four or five feet and then exercise its wings. 

 They also kept grabbing at small objects 

 and occasionally pecked at each other play- 

 fully. Eating and sleeping, however, were 

 still their main occupations. 



Our repeated visits had probably con- 

 vinced the old falcons that expostulation 

 was in vain. They spent less time on the 

 wing and permitted closer approach while 

 at rest. 



By May 23 the young were so far ad- 

 vanced that the riot usually attendant on 

 weighing would probably have sent most 

 of them flapping down the hillside. The 

 scales and the black bag were therefore 

 laid aside. 



While pretty well scattered along the 

 ledge, they did not seem particularly timid, 

 and of their own accord lined up in a most 

 satisfactory manner for the family group 

 (see page 615). This, although we did not 

 know it at the time, was to be our last close 

 contact with the family. 



OFF TO SEEK THEIR FORTUNE 



When we reached the cliff on the after- 

 noon of May 30, although the male came 

 out to meet us, all of the young had left 

 the nest ledge. 



Their screams, answering the frantic yells 

 of the parents, finally disclosed two of them 

 sitting on a sunny ridge of a rock about 200 

 feet east of the nesting ledge and at about 

 the same level. While we watched them, 

 one flew strongly toward a saddle in the hill 

 just above the nest cliff and disappeared 

 behind it. 



I tried to get near enough to the other to 

 get a picture, but he went the same way 

 when I had approached within 2S feet. 

 With a tail wind, both youngsters set a fast 

 pace in their first long flights. I caught 

 just one more glimpse of them, perched in 

 the sage and withered grass of the hillside, 

 their breasts showing a rusty orange in the 

 afternoon sun. Then they were gone. 



We located the others resting almost 

 motionless on the opposite end of the cliff 

 from the nest. It was impossible to reach 

 and photograph them. They seemed safe 

 and contented, and so we coiled our rope, 

 cut the camera lines, bade them an affec- 

 tionate farewell, and departed homeward. 



Flight characteristics observed at com- 

 paratively close range formed a thrilling 

 feature of our falcon studies. 



No one who has ever worked his way to 

 the crest of a cliff above a falcon's nesting 

 ledge will forget the first wild screams that 

 greet his arrival, the arrowlike rush of the 

 bird as it launches forth into space, turning 

 its head to view the intruder, and the as- 

 tounding exhibitions of wild and headlong 

 flying and swooping that may follow. 



BUCKING A STRONG WIND 



The character of the entertainment will 

 depend upon the individual birds, the state 

 of their tempers, and in many cases on the 

 strength of the wind. 



We visited one cliff during a fierce gale. 

 The female, a very large and strong bird, 

 was sitting on the edge of the old raven's 

 nest she had pirated for a house and ab- 

 solutely refused to launch out against the 

 wind until I suddenly dropped a coil of rope 

 in front of her. 



The results were startling. As the falcon 

 launched herself, an unusually strong gust 

 of wind caught her from beneath. The first 

 lightninglike stroke of her wings shot her 

 upward, hardly a yard from the front of 

 the cliff and almost within arm's reach. 



Upward and backward, SO feet, she went, 

 and then with wonderful and spectacular 

 contortions headed into the gale. That day 

 there was no such thing as circling. The 

 gale was so strong that with wings scarcely 

 opened she was buffeted about like a leaf 

 high over head. Even while thus continu- 

 ally headed into the wind, she had a rough 

 time and frequently a side gust would ruffle 

 her feathers, blow her tail around almost at 

 right angles to her body, and partly capsize 

 her. 



Often I had opportunity for contrasting 

 the design of modern monoplanes and the 

 structure of swift-flying birds, of which they 

 are more or less crude copies. I never tired 

 of watching a falcon come sailing in from a 

 great distance, with wings held steady and 

 fully extended in a very symmetrical and 

 strongly curved downward bow. 



A FALSE START IN HOUSEKEEPING 



I once saw a pair of falcons make a 

 rather interesting false start in housekeep- 

 ing. After a single egg had been laid on a 

 bare shelf, they deserted it completely for 

 no apparent reason and raised their family 

 in a deep pothole 30 feet below. 



