THE RED-SHOULDERED HAWK. 
You have heard of me before. 
I am the Hawk whose cry Mr. 
Blue Jay imitated, as you will 
remember, in the story "The 
New Tenants," published in 
Birds. 
Kee-oe, kee-oe, kee-oe, that is my 
cry, very loud and plaintive ; 
they say I am a very noisy bird; 
perhaps that is the reason why 
Mr. Blue Jay imitates me more 
than he does other Hawks. 
I am called Chicken Hawk, 
and Hen Hawk, also, though I 
don't deserve either of those 
names. There are members of 
our family, and oh, what a lot of 
us there are — as numerous as 
the Woodpeckers — who do drop 
down into the barnyards and 
right before the farmer's eyes 
carry off a Chicken. Red 
Squirrels, to my notion, are more 
appetizing than Chickens; so are 
Mice, Frogs, Centipedes, Snakes, 
and Worms. A bird once in a 
while I like for variety, and be- 
tween you and me, if I am hun- 
gry, I pick up a chicken now 
and then, that has strayed out- 
side the barnyard. But only 
occasionally, remember, so that I 
don't deserve the name of 
Chicken Hawk at all, do I? 
Wooded swamps, groves 
inhabited by Squirrels, and 
patches of low timber are the 
places in which we make our 
homes. Sometimes we use an 
old crow's nest instead of build- 
ing one; we retouch it a little 
and put in a soft lining of 
feathers which my mate plucks 
from her breast. When we 
build a new nest, it is made of 
husks, moss, and strips of bark, 
lined as the building progresses 
with my mate's feathers. Young 
lady Red-shouldered Hawks lay 
three and sometimes four eggs, 
but the old lady birds lay only 
two. 
Somehow Mr. Blue Jay never 
sees a Hawk without giving the 
alarm, and on he rushes to at- 
tack us, backed up by other Jays 
who never fail to go to his 
assistance. They often assem- 
ble in great numbers and act- 
ually succeed in driving us out 
of the neighborhood. Not that 
we are afraid of them, oh no! 
We know them to be great 
cowards, as well as the crows, 
who harass us also, and only 
have to turn on our foes to put 
them to rout. Sometimes we do 
turn, and seizing a Blue Jay, 
sail off with him to the nearest 
covert ; or in mid air strike a 
Crow who persistently follows 
us. But as a general thing we 
simply ignore our little assail- 
ants, and just fly off to avoid 
them. 
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