Home of the Peregrine Falcon. 
Nyack, N. Y., May 28.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: With the possible exception of the 
gyrfalcon, of which we have only an occasional 
winter visitor in the United States, our pere¬ 
grine falcon, or duck hawk, should head the lFt 
of birds of prey. Compared to him our eagle 
—giving him all due respect—is a lumbering 
carrion eater. 
The better you become acquainted with this 
The nesting site is a small ledge on the face 
of the cliff, about fifty feet below the mountain 
top and protected from observation above by the 
overhang of the mountain. At this point the 
face of the mountain is almost perpendicular, 
and the sheer wall of rock drops away from the 
nest, almost as straight as the side of a sky¬ 
scraper for perhaps 350 feet, nearly to the water’s 
edge. It would be hard to imagine a home better 
suited to the wild freebooters that occupy it. 
The only possible manner in which the nest 
of these eggs were heavily marked with dark 
brown on a lighter brown field; the fourth egg 
was of a dirty white and without any markings 
whatever. If it had been clean I think it would 
have been almost pure white. 
Some weeks later I made another trip to the 
nest, at the request of John Rowley, then chief 
taxidermist of the American Museum of New 
York City, and secured the three young birds 
and the adult female for the group that are now 
in the museum. While making the descent, the 
PEREGRINE FALCON’S YOUNG. 
THE FALCON’S PERCH. 
falcon, the more you see to admire. He has the 
courage of a game cock and almost the speed 
of a projectile. While in the air no bird is safe 
from his attack. Some of our ducks have an 
estimated speed of close to 100 miles an hour, 
yet catching ducks has earned this bird one 'of 
his names, and amid the bones and feathers 
found in its nest you will find most convincing 
evidence of its speed and power. 
For fourteen years, to my knowledge, a pair 
of these birds have had their home and raised 
their families on Hook Mountain, about five 
miles above the Palisades, on the Hudson River. 
can be reached is from above. By tying a rope 
to a convenient tree—if so inclined—you can 
slide down to the ledge and observe the falcon’s 
home at short range. Any ornithologist will feel 
well repaid for the trip, for while it is not par¬ 
ticularly dangerous, it is somewhat exhilarating, 
and the labor of climbing up again offers an ex¬ 
cellent test for wind and muscle. On the first 
descent I made to the nest I found four eggs. 
They were typical of the raptores and were, 
roughly speaking, about the * size of common 
hen’s eggs, but more rounded, the opposite ends 
being almost the same size and shape. Three 
female bird was extremely bold. She would 
circle far overhead, fold her wings and literally 
drop down past me with such speed that it was 
hard to distinguish that the object was a bird. 
Then she immediately circled up and repeated 
the performance. I found that the falcons had 
been feeding their young largely on pigeons, and 
if my memory is correct, Prof. Allen at that 
time sent you a list of the leg band numbers 
that were published in Forest and Stream. 
In the spring of 1902 I took a pair of young 
that were purchased by Wm. T. Hornaday for 
the New York Zoological Park. Since that time 
