Perea aoa eB. OPN VB rUslLils Belrl.N 3 
interested me. One was the fact that the interior of the nest had frequently 
been lined with green foliage, thus covering the remains of previous meals; 
the other was the sanitary way the little hawks were careful not to dirty 
the nest, always backing carefully to the edge. 
When I attempted to band the nestlings they would flip over on their 
backs and present their needle-sharp talons like a boxer, and when the hand 
approached they would strike out in a flash, and quite often they did not 
miss. As I finished the banding I had a new respect for those who were 
banding eagles. 
The second nest had only one survivor. In the nest with him was one 
egg, and search as I might I could discover no remains of another nestling 
or of another egg. During this visit the parents of both nests were much 
bolder than when the nests contained only eggs and they circled quite near, 
even alighting in nearby trees to scream at me. 
On May 30 I paid my last respects to the now nearly full-fledged 
nestlings. In fact, as my head and shoulders appeared over the edge of 
the first nest one little hawk, braver than the rest, promptly launched 
herself from the edge and volplaned to earth. She seemed quite pleased 
and proud of herself as I placed her back in the nest, and regarded her 
nestmates contemptuously. The lone hawk in the second nest had thrived 
beautifully, being the sole object of his parents’ care, and had received 
plenty of food. Even though a little younger than those in the other nest 
he was almost as well developed and weighed more than any of them. 
As I left the nests for the last time I had the feeling of parting with 
friends, for I had come to love these birds that soon would be wheeling high 
against the heavens, and as I hesitantly left the forest their thin screams 
reached my ears and seemed to be saying farewell. 
Setting up their household about the same date as the red-shouldered 
hawks were a pair of diminutive and beautiful sparrow hawks (Falco 
sparverious). These little falcons had chosen as their nesting site the 
habitual cavity, this time located some 60 feet high in a live elm in LaBaugh 
Wood, a forest preserve. I began to watch them in March and they were 
so fascinating that I often stayed for an entire day just following them 
through the woods. As the days became warmer the tempo of their mating 
increased and the female made her choice of a nesting cavity. The male, 
when not bringing her offerings in the form of mice, was performing beau- 
tiful maneuvers for his mate. Rising high into the air he would plunge 
like a meteor down through the trees until, just as he seemed to be going 
to dash himself against the ground, he would swoop up again to repeat, 
much in the manner of a roller coaster. During this performance his wild 
ery of “Killee, killee” rose and fell about the woods. 
By the third week in April the female had laid five eggs, buff-colored, 
spotted profusely with cinnamon, arranged in the bottom of the cavity on a 
bed of decayed wood, with the small ends pointing inward. The female was 
seldom seen. Only when her mate brought food did she leave the nest, and 
then only to eat and exercise a bit; then back to her eggs she would go, 
relieving the male who had incubated them in her short absence. The little 
