With a loud whistle Dick let the hawk slip. She rose rapidly in the air, over the water-hen, and then swooped. The water-hen instantly dived. The disappointed hawk curved up again, just touching the surface of the water with her breast. She rose about twenty feet in the air and swooped around in small circles, her head turning this side and that, watching for her quarry. The course of the water-hen under water was marked by a line of bubbles, and Frank kept close behind her, letting the wind out of his sails in order not to overtake her and so cause her to double back. Soon she rose again to the surface, but ere the hawk, quick as she was, could reach her, she had dived again. In this manner, the water-hen rising to the surface to breathe and the hawk swooping unsuccessfully, they ran across the broad to a reed-bed, where the pursued bird remained under water so long that they knew she was holding on to the weed by her claws, with only her beak above water, as is the habit of these birds. After a little searching about they saw her yellow beak protruding above a mass of weeds. Seeing that she was discovered, she flew up uttering a despairing croak. Down came the sparrow-hawk with lightning swiftness, and struck her in the air, and they both fell into the reeds. The boys forced their way to them and the hawk allowed Dick to approach and take her in his hand. He cut off the head of the water-hen, and gave it to her to eat in the cabin, while they brought the other hawk for the next flight.
"Well," said Frank, "that was as successful a flight as we could desire. There goes a water-rail. Let the hawk go."
With a sharp scream the hawk dashed off in pursuit of it, and without troubling itself to soar, it struck the water-rail, and, bearing it away in its talons, it flew off to a dyke where a wherry was moored, her crew having gone ashore, and perched on the top of the mast, where it began to pick at and tear the bird.
"What's to be done now?" said Jimmy.
"We must try the lure," answered Frank, and taking it up he whistled and threw it in the air. The hawk dropped the water-rail and flew down to the lure and suffered herself to be taken. As a reward, she was allowed to have its head, and the other hawk was again taken out.
"There is a coot swimming along yonder. Let her fly at it," cried Jimmy.
As the hawk launched into the air, however, a sandpiper flew out from among the reeds, and the hawk instantly followed it. It was a very pretty sight to see the twistings and turnings of the two birds as they dashed across the broad with equal speed. Frank took a pull at the sheet so as to catch the wind, and followed them as fast as he could. The hawk had risen above the sandpiper, and was about to swoop down upon it, when the latter, to the surprise of the boys, dashed into the water and dived.
"Only fancy a bird with no webs to its feet diving," said Frank.
The sandpiper remained under water some time, and when it arose, which it did with great apparent ease, the sail of the yacht hid it from the hawk's sight, and it flew away unmolested. As they sailed along on the look-out for other prey, the hawk hung in the air above them, and followed, or, as it is technically called, "waited on," them in the most beautiful manner.
The birds on the broad now seemed to be aware that a hawk was about, and kept close to the shelter of the reeds, so that the broad seemed quite deserted. At last, however, a coot swam out, and the hawk made a feint at it but did not strike it, and the coot swam coolly away.