The boys who spend much time in the fields are very well acquainted with me. Many a time, I dare say, they have seen me patiently sitting, for an hour or more, on a lofty branch waiting for "something to turn up."
Something does generally turn up, and that is a mouse. "Ah," says she, peeking out from her nest, "there is nobody around, so I will go out for a walk," and out she comes, not noticing me way up in the tree, of course.
Then I dive from my perch and fly directly over her. A mouse can't keep still, somehow, and from point to point she runs, zigzagging this way and that way, giving me lots of trouble, for I have to zigzag, too. After awhile she stands still for a minute, and so do I, up in the air, my fan-like tail spread out very wide, my head lowered and—well, pretty soon it is all over with Mrs. Mouse. But mice are nuisances anyway, don't you think? Just because people have seen me do that little trick they call me the Mouse Hawk. I catch Sparrows, and other small birds, so they call me the Sparrow Hawk, too.
I don't care what they call me, to tell you the truth, just so they let me alone. It's not pleasant to have a stone thrown at you, or a gun pointed your way——if it is loaded, and they generally are loaded, I notice, with something that hurts.
My nest? Oh, I don't care for that sort of work, so I never build one. Any natural hole in a high tree, the deserted hole of a Woodpecker, or a Magpie's nest, is good enough for me. Just a few leaves in the bottom, and on them my mate lays five eggs, sometimes six, sometimes seven.
THE AMERICAN SPARROW HAWK.
EVERY boy who has been in the fields is familiar with this beautiful little Hawk, which is numerous everywhere in North America. As Davie felicitously says: "Here it may be seen hovering almost motionless in mid air, then suddenly swooping down to the ground, arises again with perhaps a field-mouse in its talons." From this habit it receives the name of Mouse Hawk, although it also preys upon Sparrows and other small birds. It is found almost everywhere, though most abundant along streams where grow the high sycamores, whose natural cavities furnish suitable nesting places, but meadows and fields are its retreats when in search of food. It builds no nest, but deposits its eggs in the natural cavities of high trees, often in the deserted holes of Woodpeckers, or in crevices in rocks or nooks about buildings. In the West it frequently appropriates a deserted Magpie's nest. Eggs of this Hawk were taken from a crevice in a stone quarry in the Scioto river, where the birds nested for years. The Sparrow Hawk often takes possession of boxes intended for Pigeons, and it always proves to be a peaceable neighbor. The nests generally contain no lining, but in some cases a slight bed of leaves or grasses on a few chips are used. The eggs are four to six, buffy white, speckled, spotted, and blotched with light and dark brown.