breathlessly, watching the Falcon's belly with the full 
expectation of seeing him extend his legs to seize his 
victim. To my surprise, he did not show so much as the 
tips of his talons but, on overtaking the Pigeon, he 
seemed to strike it with his breast, half upsetting it and 
sending it a yard or more downward before it could recover 
its equilibrium. Then, setting his wings, he scaled off 
swiftly towards the Estabrook woods — the direction whence 
he had first come — leaving the Pigeon to pursue its way 
unmolested, at a lower level, to its home in the Derby 
barn. 
What did it all mean? Was the Falcon merely 
amusing himself or was he too slow or clumsy to strike the 
Pigeon when apparently he had only to use his talons to 
make it his prize? I have repeatedly seen the Duck Hawk 
and the Pigeon Hawk, as well as other Hawks, fail in a 
similar way. On some occasions I have thought that, like 
this Gyrfalcon, they were not really in earnest; on others 
they appeared to lack the skill and quickness necessary 
to secure their victims when the latter were brought fairly 
within reach. Of one thing I am convinced, viz. that nearly 
if not all our birds of prey including the Shrike lack 
persistenc e in the chase. If they fail in the first swoop, 
they frequently will not attempt a second and I have very 
rarely seen them try more than three times in succession. 
I am satisfied, also, that few of them get on the average 
