THE SPARROW HAWK. 
69 
With this writer’s opinion my own experience to a very great measure coincides, though 
as I never attempted to train a Sparrow Hawk to falconry, I cannot answer for some of its 
deficiencies. 
One of these birds afforded an excellent example of the shyness and timidity above men- 
tioned. Although he was most kindly treated and liberally fed, he used to scream in the most 
ear-piercing manner when approached, even by the person who generally carried his food. 
The only companion whose presence he would tolerate, was a little Skye terrier, named Rosy, 
and the two strangely matched comrades used to execute the most singular gambols together, 
the dog generally taking the initiative, and persecuting the Hawk until she forced him to fly. 
The great object of the dog was to catch the Hawk by the wing, while the bird gave his atten- 
tion to flying at the dog’s throat, hanging on by his claws and boxing her ears with his wings 
until she was fain to shake him off. Once, Rosy caught the Hawk by his tail, and having the 
game all her own way, careered round the yard in great exultation, dragging after her the unfor- 
tunate Hawk, who could not possibly resist or retaliate, and was reduced to scream abjectly 
for succor. 
Another Sparrow Hawk which I procured for some time was, curiously enough, a most 
arrant coward, and so far from chasing the little birds, as was his duty, and keeping them 
from eating the peas and fruit, he allowed them to bully him shamefully, and would run away 
from a wagtail. The little birds soon learned his incapacity, and the blue titmice used to 
watch the time when he was fed, and run off with the meat before his eyes. The bird was not 
a young one when it came into my possession, and had probably been broken in spirit by 
cruel treatment. 
The credit of the race was, however, better kept up by a Sparrow Hawk that belonged to 
a lady friend, but it was not taught any artificial accomplishments. The bird took a great 
fancy to its mistress, and would perch on her shoulder or eat from her hand. But it would 
permit no other person to touch it, neither would it allow any one to approach its mistress 
while it was at hand. In such cases it would fly savagely at the fancied foe, and was so deter- 
mined in its attack upon the ankles, that any one who attempted to cross its path was obliged 
to fend it off with an umbrella, which it would fight and scold as it was being pushed away. 
It was a terrible thief, and crafty to a degree. Once, having made itself acquainted with 
the fact that a partridge was hanging in the larder, it hung about until it saw a servant 
approaching the spot. As soon as she opened the door, the Hawk shot noiselessly over her 
head, and sat quietly until she had retired. It then proceeded to demolish the partridge. 
Between this servant and the Hawk there was a deadly feud, owing to a depredation com- 
mitted by the bird and resented by the servant. A chicken had just been plucked and was 
lying on the kitchen table, when the Hawk glided softly through the door, and perching on 
the chicken, had devoured its breast before the theft was discovered. The servant struck it 
with a broom, when the bird flew at her head, and pushing its claws into her hair, it buffeted 
her face with its wings, and could not be removed until it had torn out no small quantity of 
hair. After a while the bird disappeared, perhaps stolen, but very probably killed by its foe. 
The propensity of the Sparrow Hawk to attack larger birds of prey has already been 
mentioned, and the creature only suffers poetical justice in being made the subject of similar 
attacks. The swallows and other swift-winged birds are wonderfully fond of mobbing the 
Sparrow Hawk, although in many instances they pay dearly for their audacity. I once saw 
a Sparrow Hawk that was being mobbed by a number of sand martins, and was flying about 
in a seemingly purposeless and bewildered manner, suddenly turn on its pursuers, seize one of 
them in its terrible grasp, and instantly sail away bearing its screaming victim in its talons. 
The Hawk was almost within reach when this circumstance occurred. 
The general color of the adult male is dark brown upon the upper surface of the head, 
body, and wings, softening into gray as the bird increases in years. The entire under surface 
is rusty brown, marked with narrow bands of a darker hue ; the long and slender legs and toes 
are yellow, as is the cere, but with a tinge of green ; the long, sharp, armed claws are black, 
and the beak is a slate-blue, darkening towards the point. The length of the male bird is 
about one foot. The female, which is about fifteen inches in length, is colored differently from 
