Aquila chrysaetos [The Golden Eagle].
The eagle breeds in the highest parts of the county, in the rocky heights near Ben Avon (see [p. 121]). They have also been seen hovering about the sea-braes between Banff and Portsoy.
Aquila albicilla [The Erne or Sea-Eagle] has also been found.
Aquila haliaetus [The Osprey, Fish Hawk, or Fishing Eagle] has also been found. A very fine male specimen was shot amongst the high cliffs of Gamrie Head. Another was seen at Melrose, a few miles from where the other was obtained.
Falco peregrinus [The Peregrine Falcon, Blue or Hunting Hawk].
The Peregrine is one of our native hawks, and breeds annually, though very sparingly, and usually in inaccessible places in some of our highest headlands. Peregrine falcons have been taken from their nests in Troup Head. As to the manner in which they devour their prey, see [p. 223].
Falco æsalon [The Merlin].
A daring little fellow that breeds on several of our hills, more particularly on the Knock, the Bin (Huntly), Auchindoon, and Benvennis. When strolling along our sea-braes early one morning, I heard a tremendous noise of rooks and jackdaws ahead of me, and on coming to the spot I found them attacking a little merlin. One would have thought that such a host would have smothered the little creature in a twinkling. But such was not the case. The crows did not assail him all at once, nor yet singly; but three, four, and as many as seven, would be on him at a time, the main body keeping at a short distance, encouraging their companions, as it were, with their cawings. After a while, one of these storming parties would retire, and then another would sally forth to the charge. The merlin, however, being of lighter mettle and swifter of wing, managed, with wonderful dexterity, generally to avoid their attacks; now rising, now descending, and now turning in a zigzag direction, first to one side, then to the other; and succeeding, whilst doing so, in giving one or other of his adversaries a pretty severe peck, which had the effect of sending him screaming away. At last, however, a crow, which seemed more courageous than the rest, rushed at the merlin with such fury that I actually thought he would have swallowed him up at once, or sent him headlong into the sea. But no! the merlin withstood the shock, and contrived to deal his assailant a thrust as he approached and passed him. The merlin now rose considerably higher, and was followed only by this single opponent, who returned with redoubled fury to the combat. Up, up they soar, fighting as they go. They close, they scream, they grapple, and their feathers fly like dust. Down they come, locked in deadly embrace. I run to catch them both. But no! See! they part, mount again and again, scream, close, and, as before, fall, but not this time to the earth; they part and mount again. But ’tis now their last time; for the hawk, rising several yards above his bold and venturous antagonist, rushes down upon him with a yell, such as hawks alone, when irritated, know how to utter, and with such force that both fell right down into the sea, above which they were then fighting. I looked to see them rise again; but they did not. After a little splashing, all was over with the crow, but not with the hawk: he was still alive, although in a very precarious situation, from which he made several unsuccessful attempts to rise, but could not. It would seem that in dealing the death-blow to his tormentor he somehow or other got himself entangled, perhaps by his talons entering some of the bones of the crow, from whence he could not extract them. Both met with a watery grave, for on my leaving the place, they were both fast drifting seaward, a breeze blowing off the land at the time, with the crows hovering over them and still cawing.