142 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



than never to see a hawk sailing through the upper air 

 again. This sight is worth incomparably more than a 

 chicken soup or a boiled egg. So we exterminate the 

 deer and substitute the hog. It was amusing to observe 

 the swaying to and fro of the young hawk's head to 

 counterbalance the gentle motion of the bough in the 

 wind. 



May 4, 1858. As I sit there by the swamp-side this 

 warm summery afternoon, I hear the crows cawing 

 hoarsely, and from time to time see one flying toward the 

 top of a tall white pine. At length I distinguish a hen- 

 hawk perched on the top. The crow repeatedly stoops 

 toward him, now from this side, now from that, passing 

 near his head each time, but he pays not the least atten- 

 tion to it. 



Nov. 9, 1858. Now the young hen-hawks, full-grown 

 but inexperienced, still white-breasted and brown (not 

 red) -tailed, swoop down after the farmer's hens, between 

 the barn and the house, often carrying one off in their 

 clutches, and all the rest of the pack half fly, half run, 

 to the barn. Unwarrantably bold, one ventures to stoop 

 before the farmer's eyes. He clutches in haste his trusty 

 gun, which hangs, ready loaded, on its pegs ; he pursues 

 warily to where the marauder sits teetering on a lofty 

 pine, and when he is sailing scornfully away he meets 

 his fate and comes fluttering head forward to earth. 

 The exulting farmer hastes to secure his trophy. He 

 treats the proud bird's body with indignity. He carries 

 it home to show to his wife and children, for the hens 

 were his wife's special care. He thinks it one of his best 

 shots, full thirteen rods. This gun is " an all-fired good 



