THE COMMON BUZZARD.
The Buzzard may still be seen circling high in the air in some of our own wilder wooded districts, uttering its mewing cry, especially in Wales, but it is fast decreasing. A correspondent from South Devon wrote me that it was not infrequently shot there. As Mr. Howard Saunders wrote, “It used to breed in Norfolk and other counties abounding with Partridges and ground game, without being considered incompatible with their well-being; but now that Pheasant worship has increased, the doom of that great devourer of field mice, moles, and other pests of the farmer which has never been proved to be destructive to Partridges and Pheasants is sealed. Still it might yet increase if fairly encouraged, and it is an interesting sight, either soaring over head or resting in its characteristic sluggish way on the branch of a tree. In the New Forest this used to be a common enough sight, but the bark strippers being at work just at the time of incubation, and knowing that they can easily obtain five shillings for a good well-marked specimen—the Buzzard has little chance now.
I find in my note book, “My glass shows a great brown and grey bird resting on a stumpy willow—what they call here a Mouse-Buzzard—that species so useful to the grazier, which we drive away by persecution. Presently it rises high to soar in fine circles over its hunting ground. The farmers encourage it because of its wonderful stowage capacity for voles, rats, and other small deer,—the game-preservers persecute it, because when pressed by hunger it takes old hen pheasants and even larger creatures. On our friend’s estate here it is encouraged; the stomach of a dead Buzzard has been found to contain thirty mice. Also it is a deadly foe to the viper, although a bite from the latter has been death to the Buzzard occasionally. A Buzzard was once found dead on its nest with a viper lying under his body. The bird had carried it there to devour. This is a gentle looking creature, yet when hard pressed by hunger—madly ravenous, it has been known to attack an ox. Humans are apt to become desperate under similar circumstances.
Said Butler in “Hudibras”:
“He’d prove a buzzard is no fowl,
And that a lord may be an owl.”