The Retailed Hawk. 
That the days are numbered for the birds of 
prey in Iowa is at once apparent to all who 
have studied bird conditions in this State. 
Originally there were belts of timber along the 
streams, but these are rapidly disappearing, so 
that few favorable nesting sites remain. This, 
added to their almost universal persecution, bids 
fair to lead to their extermination within a few 
years. Seldom is a nest left undisturbed until 
the young are ready to fly, and few hunters will 
allow a hawk to pass undisturbed that comes 
within range of his gun. In view of these facts 
it is not strange that it is difficult for a natu¬ 
ralist to find opportunity to study these birds 
under normal conditions. 
When, early last spring, I found that a pair 
as the eggs were hatched, the bringing of small 
mammals for food began. The old bird would 
stand on the nest and tear the meat to bits and 
feed them. At times half an hour would be 
consumed in the operation, while at others not 
more than five minutes would be required, de¬ 
pending upon whether a mouse or prairie squir¬ 
rel had been secured. A small object like a 
mouse was carried in the beak, while a large 
one, like a squirrel, was carried in the talons. 
While one bird was .feeding the young, the other, 
usually though not always, could be seen soar¬ 
ing above the nest. As the young birds neared 
maturity they were apparently left to do their 
own carving, at least when I was looking; the 
food was always dropped on the nest, and after 
resting a few moments, the old one would be 
off again. Although I watched them carefully 
“Sure about it?” 
“Yes, sir, positively.” 
“How do you know?” 
“Why I have been watching them all spring. 
They eat pocket gophers, mice, squirrels and 
rabbits. In three months they have never 
touched a feather.” 
By this time we had reached the tree and I 
saw that the nest had been torn down and that 
the young birds, fledged but as yet unable to fly, 
were upon the ground. To my surprise the 
neighbor picked up a small chicken about the 
size of a quail which had been killed only a few 
minutes previously, and which was in the nest 
when it was thrown down. Of course I was 
taken aback. In face of my positive statement 
that they did not kill chickens, here was positive 
proof that they did. I remembered that no less 
FLEDGLING RED-TAILED HAWKS. 
THE HAWKS, FULLY FLEDGED. 
of red-tailed hawks were building their nest in 
a narrow strip of timber across the road from 
my home, I was much elated, though I feared 
greatly that the nest would not remain undis¬ 
turbed. There are ten farm houses within three- 
quarters -of a mile of the site, at all of which 
poultry raising is carried on. Consequently 
poultry, if not the favorite food, would at all 
times be easily accessible. 
The nest was built in the top of a tall bass¬ 
wood fifty feet from the ground, as was deter¬ 
mined by dropping a line from the nest to the 
earth. It was composed of coarse twigs and 
lined with strips of bark, was saucer-shaped with 
only a slight depression and nearly three feet 
across. For fear of alarming the birds I did 
not attempt to climb to the nest until incuba¬ 
tion was in progress. On the 21st of March, 
nearly a month after the nest was started, the 
first examination was made. The eggs, three in 
number, were dirty and of a pale blue color, 
about as large as turkey eggs. 
From that time on a close watch was kept as 
long as the young remained in the nest. As soon 
day after day from a hiding place near at hand, 
not a bird of any kind was seen to be brought 
to the nest. The food was pocket gophers, 
prairie squirrels and field mice, all of which were 
brought in considerable numbers. On one occas¬ 
ion there were three pocket gophers, a prairie 
gray squirrel and two field mice in the nest. I 
have seen the parent birds visit the nest twice 
in less than an hour with such food, and it 
early became apparent that the young were mak¬ 
ing an enormous demand. 
One evening when the young were nearly 
ready for flight I heard a neighbor calling me 
in the direction of the nest and went to see 
what was wanted, finding him at the edge of 
the wood. 
“Frank, can you tell a chicken hawk when 
you see it?” 
“I guess I can.” 
“Come down and see what this is,” starting in 
the direction of the nest. 
“Those are red-tailed hawks.” 
“Do they eat chickens?” 
“No, indeed !” 
a champion of the hawks than Dr. A. K. Fisher 
had charged the red-tailed hawk with an occas¬ 
ional chicken, and so placed them in the mostly 
beneficial class. Here I, a friend of the hawks, 
who had watched them almost daily for three 
months, and time and time again had seen the 
young fed, had witnessed only their good deeds. 
And these others, whose only interest was in the 
chickens, and who had only by chance seen the 
nest in passing, had witnessed only their mis¬ 
deeds. I knew that the hawks had killed pocket 
gophers, prairie squirrels and field mice by hun¬ 
dreds, because I had taken time to observe care¬ 
fully for three months. The other persons had 
spent but a few minutes and knew only of the 
chicken. Such is life, however. Here is an 
example of the usual amount of information 
on which the prejudice against, the birds of prey 
is based. 
On May 18 the first of the photographs was 
taken. As there was no possible place to put 
the camera so as to take the birds in the nest, 
they were let down in a bucket and then replaced 
in the nest. The second picture was taken on 
