CHAPTER V. 
THE GREENLAND FALCON 
(Falco candicans ). 
“ Beside him, motionless, the drowsy bird 
Dreamed of the chase, and in his slumber heard 
The sudden scythe-like sweep of wings, that dare 
The headlong plunge thro’ eddying gulfs of air.” 
Longfellow. 
“ As a Falcon from the rocky height 
Her quarry seen, impetuous at the sight, 
Forth springing instant, darts herself from high. 
Shoots on the wing, and skims along the sky.” 
Pope. 
Those were grand days, when royalty delighted, 
together with noble lords and ladies, in the spectacle 
afforded by the noblest of all birds of prey, chasing its 
wild quarry! Everyone who has had the good fortune 
to see the Falcon flown at Crane, Heron, Wild Goose, or 
Bustard, and, strangling its quarry in mid-air, bring it to 
the feet of the sportsman, will most assuredly assert 
that such sport can only be pursued with an avidity 
amounting to passion. This recreation has its followers, 
from the burning deserts of Africa to the high latitudes 
of the North. Hawking was pursued, not solely for the 
pleasure of the chase, but for the sake of beholding a 
magnificent sight,—one, we may say, without an equal. 
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