Owls and Hawks
Small birds, like men, misunderstand the owl—and it is always a curious sight to watch the mobbing of a night-bird by other smaller birds. Presumably the angered birds mistake the owl for a hawk. At any rate, they know him for a stranger, and no proven friend. When the swallows are alarmed by the appearance of an owl in day-time, they perform wonderful feats of flight, as they dart at the great bird from every angle, and swerve about him in every degree of curve. We have counted fourteen swallows' nests built in a shed against a pigeon loft wherein a pair of barn-owls were rearing their three young ones; we wondered how far the swallows were aware of the owls' presence, and what they thought about it. If they mobbed a parent owl by day there could be little real cause for their wrath—as little as when a missel-thrush or a jay joins in the outcry raised in the wood against the brown owl.
Enlightened keepers leave all hawks unmolested, except perhaps on the rare occasions when they catch one in the act of gamecide. Beyond question, hawks as a rule do far more good to game interests than harm; and the kestrel, if he ever does any harm, pays for it a hundred-fold by his tireless industry in keeping down mice and voles. Once we carefully watched for several weeks the nests of three pairs of sparrow-hawks; and among the remains of their feasts the legs of only one young pheasant were discovered.
The Bold Sparrow-Hawk
It is time, and high time, that sparrow-hawks were placed under the protecting wing of the law. Generations of gamekeepers have persecuted them relentlessly: it says much for their courage, strength, and craftiness that any should remain to offer a target for the keeper's gun. But they grow scarce; they are seen far less commonly than kestrels, whose usefulness and innocence of gamecide is beginning to be a little understood. If sportsmen would consider the evidence for and against sparrow-hawks as despoilers of game—if they would rely no longer on prejudice and crass ignorance—we feel sure they would take steps to stay the wanton slaughter by their gamekeepers of these handsome, useful birds. Keepers ought to be forbidden to destroy any sparrow-hawks, except those which clearly prove themselves guilty of killing game as a habit. How thoughtless, ruthless, and mistaken is the keeper's zeal in killing them, we could show by a hundred instances. To take one: It chanced that part of a patch of buckwheat had been left unharvested, so that the pheasants might help themselves to the grain. Thousands of small birds flocked to feed on the choice feast. A gamekeeper noticed that sparrow-hawks found this patch of buckwheat a fine hunting-ground, and would perch in a clump of tall trees near by. He therefore hid himself in the trees, with a gun, and bagged four hen sparrow-hawks, which had been well employed in thinning the ranks of the small birds.
Countrymen will speak of the cock sparrow-hawk as the little blue hawk, as though it were a separate variety: not knowing that the cock bird is about half the size of his mate. Blue hawks, pigeon hawks, and five-barred hawks are among the sparrow-hawk's local names, arising from the blue-grey colour of the upper parts of their plumage, from their occasional habit of attacking wood-pigeons, and from the five striking bars of brownish black on their tails. Less common than kestrels, sparrow-hawks are far less conspicuous: while the kestrel hovers high in the air on the look-out for prey (whether a mouse or a grasshopper), the sparrow-hawk's way is to glide low over the fields and along the hedges, swooping suddenly through gaps to pounce on unsuspecting small birds. The size and shape of the wings, and therefore the flights of the two birds, are very different. The sparrow-hawk's wings are inclined to be rounded and short; the kestrel's are long and pointed. While the young of the two birds have a great deal in common, the fledged young may be distinguished readily by the white spot on the lower part of the back of the sparrow-hawk's head. Each bird has a fatal way of coming to investigate the sound of a gunshot. If a shot is fired in the direction of a hawk flying far out of range, say a hundred yards distant, it will instantly dart down and towards the gunner, nearly always within easy range. We have seen this happen many times.