THbo 4. 
ParaN BW SPORT -OF 
HAWKING 
By HERBERT K. JOB 
PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR 
nests has always seemed to me a 
sport by itself, a unique excite- 
ment which stirs the blood with a peculiar 
thrill. It means many a mile of arduous, 
yet exhilarating, driving and tramping, 
clambering up rocky hillsides, traversing 
wild areas of swampy forest, always on the 
lookout, every nerve and sense attuned. 
Each pair of the savage feathered carnivora 
preémpts its own hunting territory, except 
as it scornfully ignores certain minor 
species of its race, so that, to find the one 
sanctum sanctorum of, say, a square mile 
of rough ground with any degree of facility 
or assurance, one must become an adept 
in woodcraft and familiar with the tastes 
and habits of the wild creatures. 
Perhaps I may examine a score or so. 
But now here is one, at the very sight of 
which my heart gives a bound. It is large 
and spreading, built entirely of sticks, and 
without any top-story of leaves; the sticks 
lie lightly one upon the other, strong and 
springy. Very quietly I approach and 
bring the glasses to bear upon it. The 
ends of the sticks are freshly broken, and 
there is a little piece of waving down cling- 
ing to a twig on or near the nest, the surest 
sign of all! With eyes fixed on the nest, I 
clap my hands, or give the tree a resound- 
ing blow with a club. Something moves 
on the platform, a confused mass of brown 
extends itself, launching out into the air, 
and a great creature flops hurriedly away 
into the mazes of the forest. What is it— 
a red-tailed, or a red-shouldered hawk ? 
Usually I can tell at a glance. If the tree is 
a pine, with branches to grasp, I am up 
there in a jiffy; if it is deciduous, the 
climbers are buckled on, to spike the way 
up. The most exciting moment is when 
one is just raising his head above the level 
of the nest. What will it be? Two eggs, 
probably, if it belongs to the red-tailed 
hawk; three or four, if to the red-shoulder. 
Were it later in the season, and the re- 
treating bird smaller, the contents might 
be the two or three eggs of a broad-wing, 
5 | SHE annual spring hunt for hawks’ 
or the four or five of the Cooper’s or of the 
dashing little sharp-shin. In color they 
may be anything from a dirty or bluish 
white to specimens beautifully blotched 
and shaded with different shades of brown. 
Or, if it be late in the season, a brood of 
odd, hook-billed young may be the sur- 
prise, clad in suits of soft, white down, that 
rise to their feet, and snap and hiss at the 
unwelcome intruder. 
In the wild pine tracts in southern 
Massachusetts, I used to find each spring, 
from March to May, exclusive of coloniz- 
ing ospreys, about thirty hawks’ nests. 
Each nest meant an arduous hunt, miles 
of travel, hours or days of rough work. 
Probably the whole season involved a 
thousand miles of the hardest sort of ex- 
ploration, but it was grand sport—yes, and 
is, for I am just as eager for-the spring 
round-up as I ever was. I say ‘“‘round- 
up,” for each pair of raptorial birds will 
breed in about the same locality year after 
year, if not disturbed too much. Some- 
times they repair and use the same old 
nest, or else build, or fix over, another 
quite near by, so that, when once the 
region is thoroughly known, one can meet 
with success in a minimum of time. 
In the latitude of Southern New Eng- 
land the red-tailed hawk, the first to 
nest, usually has deposited her eggs by 
the sth or roth of April, sometimes by 
the last week in March. The nest of 
this species is usually especially diffi- 
cult to reach, being seldom less than 
50 or 60 feet from the ground, in a 
very large tree, often dangerous of as- 
cent. Red-tails like a retired woodland 
tract or grove of large timber, in hilly 
country part way up the side of a hill, es- 
pecially at the base of a rough, rocky 
steep. In such territory they choose an 
oak or chestnut tree, but in flat country, 
like southeastern Massachusetts, they like 
the great white pine tracts. This species 
is the largest of the so-called ‘‘hen-hawks,” 
and can be distinguished by its tail, which 
is chestnut-red on the upper side. 
