The Red-bellied Hawk 



ure prominently in the local hori- 

 zons, even where the bird is known 

 to be of regular occurrence. 



Most of our observation of bird- 

 life is marred by self-consciousness on 

 the bird's part. The hawk marks 

 our distant approach and is ill at 

 ease, fearing the gun. Self-conscious- 

 ness becomes acute distress when the 

 nest is threatened, and the behavior 

 of the bird, while not unnatural, is 

 still but a narrow revelation of its 

 nature. If, however, one can steal 

 up unawares and mark the pleasure 

 of a mother bird as she rends a car- 

 cass and divides the portions among 

 her clamoring young, one feels a 

 special sense of privilege. It is a 

 gift of the fairy wishing-cap. The 

 Red-bellied Hawk, too, is one of the 

 birds which will respond to the 

 screeping call of a concealed ob- 

 server. It is her business, no doubt, 

 to wait upon all squeaking notes, and 

 it is a treat to see her, puzzled, curi- 

 ous, but unafraid, as she turns now 

 this way and now that upon a shel- 

 tered perch and scrutinizes the un- 

 dergrowth. The eye is kindly, or a 

 little vain perhaps, but there is 

 reason enough for pride in that 

 gorgeous breast of auburn. When, 

 alas, the human disguise is discov- 

 ered, the hawk departs in a sudden 

 vision of black-and-white-barred up- 

 perparts, which is partial compensa- 

 tion for the interrupted play. A pair we observed at San Ardo, who were 

 charged with the care of a single chick, were so impetuous of movement 

 and so fearful of human approach, that it was several days before we 

 could determine the species even after the nest was found. Not even the 

 scream is uniformly indulged in, but when it is, one may be certain as 

 to identity. Mr. Sharp has called the note, not inaptly, "a short snap- 



168s 



Taken in San Bernardino County Photo by Wright M. Pierce 



RED-BELLIED HAWK'S NEST NEAR TOP OF EUCALYPTUS 



