1892
July 28
Concord, Massachusetts.
Mass.
Concord.- Still another intensely hot day, the sun
shining dimly through haze, the air oppressively still
and humid.
[margin]Morning walk.[/margin]
  Immediately after breakfast I started for a short
walk. Robins, Red eyes, Chippies, Yellow Warblers and
a Meadow Lark singing rather listlessly. As I was
passing the Burrills' the calls of Martins attracted my
attention and looking to the eastward I saw a flock
of about a dozen of these birds flying in circles at
a height of several hundred feet over the vineyard
on Mr. Merwyn's farm. They seemed to be excited about
something and the cause was soon explained when
a small Hawk which looked exactly like Falco
columbarius suddenly appeared directly among them,
coming from I know not where. For a moment or
two it sailed about with them as if it meant them
no harm but merely wished to join the flock. None
of the Martins [delete]attempted[/delete] tried, so far as I could see, 
to avoid it but all continued their slow, easy,
circling flight. Perhaps they were too frightened or
bewildered to attempt to escape or more probably
the majority were young [delete]birds[/delete] unaware of the
fearful risk they were running as they brushed
past the strange bird in their midst. The latter,
secure of his prey, doubtless found a certain savage
pleasure in prolonging the moment of his triumph
as a Cat plays with her mouse or bird before ending
its sufferings. But at length there was a sudden dash,
the flock were scattered in every directions, and a
single Martin closely pursued by the Hawk disappeared
behind a cluster of trees. The next instant I heard
[margin]Young Martin√√[tick marks]
caught by a
Hawk.[/margin]