After awhile the female rose above the trees and 
began soaring in circles with all the ease and grace of a 
Buteo. She went off towards Bensen*s and, suspecting her 
intentions, I watched her through my glass. When nearly 
over the barn, she made a sudden swoop at the flock of hens 
which were scattered about the dooryard, descending among 
them on a steep incline and with such swiftness that my eye 
could with difficulty follow her. The hens scattered in 
every direction, some flying, some running, all cackling 
and squalling. Bensen, who was near, shouted and threw up 
his cap. The Hawk^without descending quite to the ground^ 
sheered gracefully upward and alighted in an elm nearly 
over the house. Bensen ran toward the tree, shouting again, 
and she flew off in a slow, indifferent way. The male now 
followed her and both disappeared towards the westward. 
Half-an-hour later the female dashed past me within 
a few rods and re-entered the pines by the hollow. Up to 
the moment of reaching them she moved by a succession of 
great bounds precisely like a Woodpecker, save that the 
undulating curves were actually much deeper than those per¬ 
formed by any Woodpecker. While performing this remarkable 
flight (the like of which I have never seen before) she 
was crossing an open meadow and rising and falling from 
just above the ground to a height of 30 feet or more. The 
Sharp-shinned Hawk often flits like a Robin but I have never 
seen it describe anything like such deep curves as these 
