90 BIRDS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 



with great velocity upon its prey, which it secures, not in its descent, 

 but as it is on the rise. I have on more than one occasion witnessed 

 this species take aliment in the way described. I incorporate it, not- 

 withstanding that it disagrees with certain good authority. 



Nest-building takes place from the first to the middle of May, 

 and the four nests which I have found near West Chester have all 

 been located in high trees ; three in hickory trees, the other in an oak. 

 All of these nests were over fifty or sixty feet from the ground. The 

 nest is very similar to that of the Cooper's Hawk ; it is made of sticks, 

 twigs, leaves and rootlets, lined with feathers ; one I found lined with 

 bark. The complement of eggs is usually four, although three some- 

 times is the full set. The eggs are somewhat larger than those of the 

 Cooper's Hawk, with a dull white, grayish-ground color, with brown- 

 ish red spots, which vary in size from specks to large patches, fre- 

 quently confluent. 



This Hawk is easily captured, appearing quite tame and unsuspi- 

 cious. I have always found it to be cowardly, and to evince no dis- 

 position to repel an invasion of its nest. 



Audubon relates the following circumstance, which came under the 

 notice of himself and brother-in-law while out on a tour : " As we 

 crossed a narrow skirt of woods my young companion spied a nest on 

 a tree of moderate height, and, as my eye reached it, we both per- 

 ceived that the parent bird was sitting in it. Some little consultation 

 took place, as neither of us could determine whether it was a Crow's 

 or a Hawk's nest, and it was resolved that my young friend should 

 climb the tree, and bring down one of the eggs. On reaching the 

 nest, he said the bird, which still remained quiet, was a Hawk, and 

 unable to fly. I desired him to cover it with his handkerchief, try to 

 secure it, and bring it down, together with the eggs. All this was 

 accomplished without the least difficulty. I looked at it with inde- 

 scrible pleasure, as I saw it was new to me, and then felt vexed that 

 it was not of a more spirited nature, as it had neither defended its 

 eggs nor itself. It lay quietly in the handkerchief, and I carried it 

 home to my father-in-law's, showed it to the family, and went to my 

 room, where I instantly began drawing it. I put the bird on a stick 

 made fast to my table. It merely moved its feet to grasp the stick, 

 and stood erect, but raised its feathers, and drew in its head on its 

 shoulders. I passed my hand over it to smooth the feathers by gentle 

 pressure. It moved not. The plumage remained as I wished it. Its 

 eye, directed towards mine, appeared truly sorrowful. I measured 

 the length of its bill with my compass, began my outlines, continued 

 measuring part after part, as I went on, and finished the drawing with- 

 out the bird even moving once. The drawing being finished I raised 

 i he window, laid hold of the poor bird, and launched it into the air, 



