Virtue and Vice
Considering the great variety which exists in the character, shape, size, colour, and appearance of hawks, it may be easily supposed that they differ also in strength, speed, and general capability. Perhaps the most notable of all points in which they are distinguished is in the matter of temper. Not only will the young birds from different eyries be unlike in this respect, but the very same nest may produce one good-tempered hawk, and another sulky; one bold and confiding, another timid and suspicious; one vivacious and greedy after her food, and another dull, sluggish, and indifferent about her meals. Nor are these discrepancies the result, apparently, of any different dieting or treatment. They exhibit themselves in eyesses in the very earliest days of hack, or even before, and usually continue for a long time, if not for life. No doubt a good-tempered hawk may, by falling into bad hands, be changed into a bad-tempered one; and some of those which seemed worst tempered when first caught, or when first taken up from hack, have by skilful management become quite amiable and well-behaved. But the amount of care and art required for the one sort is very different from that needed for the other; and very few beginners will be likely to achieve much success with a pupil which is thoroughly unmanageable by nature. Sparrow-hawks, especially eyesses, are, as has already been said, the most naturally untamable of the hawks usually trained, with golden eagles a pretty good second; and the most amenable are hobbies and merlins, which often seem as if they rather liked being trained. Nothing more need be said here about tempers than that with a troublesome pupil the trainer must be extra patient and extra cautious, and be continually on his guard against making a mistake. Hawks are from their earliest days very good judges of character; and the more distrustful and apt to take offence any one of them may be, the more determined must the falconer show himself to keep his temper and exhibit a philosophic calm in his demeanour. The petulance and restiveness which some hawks display vanish to an extraordinary extent if such ebullitions of temper are quietly ignored, and the offender, apparently wishing to make herself designedly disagreeable, finds herself treated as if she had played quite an amiable part. But the least sign of impatience or anger on the part of the falconer is noted by an ill-conditioned hawk, which thereupon seems to take a real delight in further aggravating her imprudent or hasty master.
There is a whole world of difference between the breaking of dogs and the breaking of hawks. The former know when they deserve punishment, and actually expect it. They respect a man for chastising them when they have done wrong, and rather despise him if he ignores the fault. A hawk, on the other hand, must never be punished, at least openly. To strike a hawk, or rate her, is to forfeit at once her respect, and what may be called her affection. A dog is a slave by immemorial habit. He knows intuitively that he is dependent upon man as a master. But the hawk, if she is worth her salt, knows nothing of the kind. Turn her loose, and instead of starving or begging, like the lost dog, she will well shift for herself. She looks upon man as an ally rather than a master. She likes to be treated as a friend and equal, rather than as a dependant and a servant. Falcons, especially,—that is, the females of the long-winged hawks,—are excessively proud, and even haughty; and are mortally offended if any indignity is offered them. But no matter what the hawk may be, the true policy is constant kindliness, or at least the outward semblance of it—a policy of rewards and not of punishments. Endeavour always to impress upon her the idea that you are her very best friend; that her chief enjoyments in life are due to your foresight and assistance; that her food, her bath, the block on which she stands at ease, the well-padded, sheltered perch, and, last but not least, the opportunities for good and successful flights, are provided by you. Then will she, in the language of the mediæval falconers, rejoice at the sight of you, and like no place so well as the fist. Then will she fly the better when your voice cheers her on, and begin her meal more comfortably when you are standing or sitting by. It is well to treat the ill-tempered hawk somewhat as Mrs. Gummidge was treated, by making allowances. Possibly she may some day surprise you by the display of unsuspected virtues.
Passing from the mental to the bodily characteristics of hawks, we find that occasionally two hawks are so alike that it is almost impossible to distinguish them except by their jesses, while others of the same kind and sex are so dissimilar that a stranger may find it difficult to believe that they do not belong to different species. There are, naturally enough, good and bad hawks of every shape, size, and colour; and it would be very rash to pronounce off-hand at the first sight of one that she is worth more than any other. Nevertheless there are certain peculiarities which are found in the average of instances, taking many together, to belong more commonly to the best hawks, and others which in the great majority of cases betray the bad performer. These have always been remarked. They are mentioned in many ancient books, written in many languages; and there can be no doubt that after taking a good look at several individuals, an experienced judge will pick out those which he would prefer to possess if he had the choice. John Barr told me upon this subject a rather pleasant story. He was travelling southwards with a large number of hawks by train, when at an intermediate station he met with the late Prince Dhuleep Singh, who during a great part of his life was a most enthusiastic and successful falconer, by whom Barr was at one time employed. The Prince immediately inspected the hawks, which, I believe, were the same that were afterwards flown at Epsom, and in the course of conversation pointed out in their order the hawks which were likely to do best. The falconer mentally noted the selection thus made, and afterwards found that it was accurately justified by the result.
It is somewhat curious that the same characteristics which in one species of hawks mark out an individual for admiration or the reverse, are mostly found to serve a like purpose in the other species. The following short remarks, therefore, unless when otherwise specified, may be taken as applying to hawks in general.
One of the very first points of which a critic will take note is the foot of a hawk. Long toes are a great merit; and if they are slender and well separated at the bases, it will be all the better. Nor is there anything mysterious or unnatural in this, for, the wider the area which the hawk’s foot can cover, the better chance she obviously has of catching hold with one talon or the other of the quarry at which she strikes. Another notable characteristic of the best feet is that they fasten themselves naturally with a clinging grip to the object of which they take hold, adhering so closely to a glove or any soft surface that they seem almost to be glued or stuck to it, and can only with difficulty be removed. In fact, the feet of some hawks, when they have taken a firm hold, can only be got off by picking the talons or claws out one after another with the hand. The hawks which thus clutch are almost always good killers in the field. Many falconers attach some importance to the colour of a hawk’s feet. Major Fisher declares that a nestling peregrine with yellow feet is of little worth, and that the best colour is lead-grey or greenish grey. Merlins in their early days often have very pale feet, but some of the best of them, when in high condition and fed daily on freshly-killed larks, will put on a bright yellow and even a somewhat orange hue. Bright colours are undoubtedly a sign of health, though they may not be of strength, speed, or courage. The power which a hawk has in her feet seems usually to be a sure indication of corresponding vigour in the rest of her body.