130 THE WINDHOVER HAWK, 



facility of watching his departing hour, for I 

 was attending the masons, some thirty yards 

 from the pond to which the swan had retired. 

 He never even uttered his wonted cry, nor so 

 much as a sound, to indicate what he felt 

 within. 



The silence which this bird maintained to 

 the last, tends to show that the dying song of 

 the swan is nothing but a fable, the origin of 

 which is lost in the shades of antiquity. Its 

 repetition can be of no manner of use, save as 

 a warning to ornithologists not to indulge in 

 the extravagances of romance, — a propensity 

 not altogether unknown in these our latter 

 times. 



THE WINDHOVER HAWK, AND THE OIL- 

 GLAND. 



On my return from Belgium, in the middle of 

 May, 1844, whilst perusing the seventeenth 

 number of the Zoologist, my attention was 

 particularly drawn to the excellent observations 

 of Mr. Bury, relative to the habits of the 

 kestril, or windhover hawk. I feel myself 



