so scarce as to be searched for with the same interest as our little Partridges already are; when the margins of our rivers shall have been drained and ploughed to the very tide-mark; when the Grouse shall have to be protected by game-laws; when Turkeys shall no longer be met with in the wild state;—how strange will the tale which I now tell sound in the ears of those who may walk along the banks of these rivers, and over the fields which have occupied the place of these marshes!
The Pigeon Hawk does not, I believe, raise its young within the United States, but somewhere farther to the north. At least, I am inclined to think so, for in all my wanderings I never found its nest, nor saw the bird at any other season than late in summer, during the autumnal months, or in the winter. Its migration, or rather its pursuit of migrating birds, extends to the southernmost parts of our country; for I have killed it not only in Louisiana, but high up the Arkansas River, in regions bordering upon the Mexican territory.
The daring spirit which it displays exceeds that of any other Hawk of its size. It seizes the Red-breasted Thrush, the Wild Pigeon, and even the Golden-winged Woodpecker, on land; whilst along the shores it chases several species of Snipes, as well as the Green-winged Teal. The latter bird, however, dives at the approach of the Hawk, and thus eludes his gripe; while the little plunderer, having descended to the surface of the water with the velocity of an arrow, passes onwards, ascending again, without seeming to move its wings, the impulse which it acquired in the descent carrying it onwards, as a carriage, after being whirled down a steep declivity, surmounts the next eminence, without additional propulsion. Even the presence of the tyrant man he little heeds, and in Pennsylvania one of this species came almost right upon me while in pursuit of a dove, which found safety in my bosom from its persecutor.
When not in full chase, the Pigeon Hawk flies with an unsteady and undetermined notion, flapping its wings frequently, while it rises in spiral curves. This parade is of short duration, for, as if it remembered that it was losing time, it again approaches the ground, and skims swiftly over the streams, across the fields, along the fences, or by the skirts of the woods, as if intending to frighten all the little birds in its way. Should it unexpectedly meet a man, it darts upwards, and quickly passes over to continue its search. I have known these Hawks attack birds in cages, hanging against the walls of houses, in the very streets of our eastern cities.
