In Scotland the living prey of the Golden Eagle, called there the Black Eagle, consists largely of mountain hares, but it takes lambs, grouse and other birds, sometimes even fawns and the young of the red-deer. In Hungary he sweeps down towards autumn from the higher regions to the vast plains, where he works havoc among the smaller wild animals, especially the hares. Only when driven by extreme hunger will he feed on carrion. On sunny days he soars circling above, with shrill squeal, until quite lost to sight, looking as it were into the very face of the sun.
The breeding places of the Eagle are confined in Great Britain to the Highlands of Scotland and the islands of the Western side, and they are now protected by the owners of deer forests from the grouse preservers and sheep farmers who greatly thinned their numbers in former years. In Ireland very few pairs now remain; they were nearly all destroyed there by poison. They rarely visit England. So far from attacking any one who visits the eyrie or tries to take an egg or young, those who know them best say that they can be photographed without the least difficulty, in fact the old birds will soar high above, seemingly ignoring the presence of the intruders. A visitor to one eyrie, in which was a baby Eaglet, found there four grouse, part of a hare, and a monk stoat! the latter, as the gamekeeper said, being an unheard of thing. Sometimes an enraged Hoodie Crow has been seen in full chase of a Golden Eagle which had been too near the nest and young of the former.
Mr. Seton Gordon says that when this Eagle is pursued by a small bird, the Mistle Thrush for instance, it never turns on its pursuer, although it could kill it with the greatest ease; but as he adds “in nature it seems to be the invariable rule that the pursued flies from the pursuer no matter what the relative sizes may be.”
The Golden Eagle is now slightly on the increase in Scotland. It is a most interesting bird, the type of nobility and of valour. The naturalist with whom I collaborated over the signature, “A Son of the Marshes,” has told of two live Golden Eagles which were chained to stands just inside the courtyard of the old coaching inn at Sittingbourne, in Kent, when he was a boy, objects of wondering delight to himself and of much daily curiosity to the passengers on the coaches. They snatched up more than one cat that came too close to their stands after the meat that was given to them.
Many poets have sung of the Golden Eagle:
Somerville, in “Field Sports,” gives some fine lines, descriptive of this bird, untamed though we call it, as one of sport:
This noble bird measures from 32 to 36 inches and the female is larger than the male. In reality he is about the size of a goose but his mighty wings and the breadth of tail make him seem far larger. The general colour is dark brown, tawny about the head and nape, hence his name golden. The tail has a greyish bar below, is mottled with dark grey in the adults, but the basal half is white in the young. The legs are feathered in front to the toes, thighs dark brown, toes yellow, claws hooked and sharp. The beak is curved from the cere. The brown eye is keen and strong as befits a bird who sights his quarry from afar. The nest, or eyrie, which is placed on a crag in a mountainous district, but often in a tree, is a large platform of sticks lined with softer materials. The Eagle never uses dead branches but always breaks them fresh off the tree. There are two and sometimes three dull greyish-white eggs streaked and blotched with every shade of reddish-brown and lilac. One of the eggs is generally addled. The young are covered with white down. During incubation the Eagle keeps near to his eyrie.
The flight of this bird is very beautiful; it mounts in circles to a great height, but swoops down quite near to the ground when pursuing its prey. Its food consists of mice, lizards, adders, and unfledged birds; but most of all it likes poultry, hens, ducks, geese. In this way it is very hurtful. Fortunately, it is a cowardly bird, and a good clucking hen can soon put it to flight.
In the spring when the flocks of geese with their young ones are grazing in the tender grass, the Red Kite will suddenly appear and cause great consternation among young and old. The poor bare-footed guardians of the geese, strive to drive the intruder away with shouts, or by waving rags, and throwing stones; and though they generally succeed, the bird occasionally gains the day. This bird is nowhere very common, and is in any case only a summer visitor. Its cry is a shrill whéw, heh-heh-heh.
This Kite was formerly known in Great Britain by its old Anglo-Saxon name of Gled or Glead, which comes from its gliding flight, and is styled Red Kite in order to distinguish it from its relatives. That it was once common enough in the South of England, a proverb, still used in the New Forest shows, “Yallow as a Kite’s claw” the folk say there in describing one who has a jaundiced appearance. So common was it in the streets of London up to 200 years ago, acting the part of a scavenger in those days, that visitors from the Continent wrote of it. Some are now living who knew it as fairly common in the wooded parts of Great Britain—Ireland excepted—but the last nest in Lincolnshire, where it once was abundant, was known in 1870. In Wales, where a few still breed, the landowners are trying to protect what they consider an interesting species. The use of its tail feathers for salmon-flies brings about the bird’s destruction in Scotland, and the gamekeeper is its pronounced enemy. In Ireland it has been seldom observed. Considering the adders, rats, and enormous numbers of mice the Kite devours, the term hurtful, as applied to it, ought perhaps to be modified.
A naturalist, writing in 1839, tells how he once took away a young Kite from a nest containing two; it became very tame and would sit on his hand, never attempting to hurt him with its sharp talons. Sometimes he let it stray away and it always came home, though it might be out for a day or two; until it intruded on an old crone in her cottage. She quickly killed it as an ill-favoured fowl. I have seen a tame Kite swoop down during a circling flight and take a mouse from the hand of the late Lord Lilford as he sat, as was his wont, in his wheeled chair among his favourite birds.
Macaulay, alluding to the Kite’s love for carrion writes:
Wordsworth was familiar with it in his walks:
Robert Burns was not a friend of the bird, Quarles’ “brood-devouring kite,” for he likened the “father of all evil” to it:
But Hurdis was more kind and just:
We may perhaps be allowed, by the chariest of agriculturists, to say that a species may be most undesirable in certain districts, but a welcome and even useful bird in others; and this is specially true of birds who devour carrion.
The Kite is about 24 inches in length. The back is rusty-red, the feathers there having dark shaft lines and edges. The tail is strongly forked. The female is less brightly coloured than the male and the young still less so. The thighs are clad with feathers, the legs bare, claws moderately strong and sharp. The bill is sickle-shaped and has a yellow cere at its base. The irides are yellowish-white. The Kite is a keen-sighted bird of prey, and builds its nest for the most part on the highest trees in the woods. It lays two or three eggs, more rarely four, with dirty blotches, smears, and spots on a greenish-white ground.
Unlike all the rest of his congeners this beautiful Falcon lives exclusively on insects. It is considered by the Mohammedan races as a sacred bird, on account of the way in which it destroys grasshoppers. Its flight is easy and bold, and the way in which he circles and floats in the air is beautiful. The young ones are also fed on insects, and as soon as they are fledged the little flock betake themselves to the meadows or the seashore and there begin with zeal their work of insect hunting. They settle on the meadows, on the freshly mown rows, and destroy the grasshoppers, and when there is a plague of these insects the Falcons are untiring in their work of extermination. It is one of the most gentle of birds, and the young ones when caught become tame in the course of a day. It can easily be seen from the expression of the eyes that there is no savagery at all in its nature. How different from the glance of the Sparrow-Hawk! It is a remarkable characteristic of this bird that not only does it differ from others of its species in its food, but also in regard to its nest. As a rule, it does not build a nest, but occupies one, generally at the cost of a battle, belonging to one of a colony of rooks. The fight for the nest is a fine spectacle, for in it the bird exhibits to the full its fine art of flight. In Hungary it is a regular migrant, and arrives in fairly large numbers.
The Red-footed Falcon is only a rare wanderer to the British Islands on its migratory flight, and chiefly to England. One was recorded as shot in Scotland in 1866—another, which is in the Dublin Museum, was taken in County Wicklow in 1832. It is a pity that this useful species, living as it chiefly does on insects and field mice, should only appear in our country to be shot.
On the steppes of Orenburg in Russia it has decreased during the last fifty years, owing apparently to the immigration of great numbers of the Lesser Kestrel, which used to be rare there. The flight of the Red-footed Falcon is not nearly so dashing as that of the Kestrel; you can note a difference in the expression of the eye and the shape of forehead of the two birds.
The clutch of eggs numbers five to six. They are of a yellowish-white ground-colour, with spots and marblings, some darker, some lighter. The nest structure is scanty, and is seldom built by the bird itself; it appropriates the old nest of a Crow, Magpie or Rook. The male of this species is for the most part slate-grey in colour, the thighs and under side of the tail are bright chestnut-red. The iris and the feet are red. The colouring of the female is more diversified. The mantle is bluish-grey, with blackish stripes, like those on the tail; the sides of the belly are light rusty-brown, throat and nape white. The forehead is whitish; top of the head rust-coloured, legs and feet reddish. The claws are nearly white.
This bird is equally at home in the plains and in the highlands. It goes South in the winter, except in mild seasons. Like the Kite it soars to a great height with a fine sweeping movement, crying “keo-keo.” It descends and with an easy stroke hovers near the ground, from which it seizes frogs, lizards, and even poisonous snakes; but besides marmots, moles, rats, and leverets, its chief diet is mice, of which it requires 20 to 30 for one good meal. It usually perches on a hayrick, a post, or a dry tree to watch for its prey, sitting motionless save for a movement of its head from side to side, until a mouse emerges from its hole. Then it raises its wings, darts downwards, and secures the booty. In years when a superabundance of mice appear, the Buzzards also are numerous, and fare plenteously. At such times, hundreds of tufts of mouse-hair are found beneath the trees where the Buzzards spend the night.
It would be a good thing if the farmer were to set up perching posts in the places which are infested by mice, so that the Buzzards might settle on them to watch the ground. Posts about the height of a man, and the thickness of an arm, with a cross piece at the top, would perfectly serve the purpose.
The Buzzard, then, is useful; but it cannot be denied that it sometimes does harm when it gets into a pheasant run, or places where partridges and hares are preserved.
The bird is still common in Hungary.
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”:
There is a good deal of variation observable in the colouring of the Buzzard, inclining sometimes to whitish, sometimes to brown or even to blackish. With its thick-set body, this bird of prey exceeds the Raven in size. Its constant distinguishing marks are these: The cere at the base of the bill, and the legs, which are bare of feathers, are yellow; the nostrils are oval; the iris grey or brown. The shafts of the primaries and secondaries are white. The tail is crossed by seventeen dark bands, and appears fore-shortened. The bill is curved and hooked. The nest is built in the loftiest beeches and oaks. Three to four eggs form the clutch. They are rarely white, more often clouded with dirty-yellow on a lighter ground.
Though the Sparrow-hawk, taken altogether, is a small bird, yet he is a great thief, as may be gathered from his piercing eye. He is the terror of all birds of the Starling size, which he seizes while on the wing. Like a true robber, he watches for his booty in a secret kind of way; having selected one from among a company of flying birds, he flies below, among the furrows in the cornfield, along the hedges, and the border of the woods, and on to a haystack. When he has seen his destined prey he flutters sideways, rises into the air in circles, and when the little birds fly up he sinks somewhat lower; when at the proper height he claps his wings close to his body, and drops like a piece of lead on to the chosen, fluttering victim, seizes it by the neck in its flight, and strangles it with his sharp claws. He then flies slowly with it to a bush or a grassy-mound and devours it.
It winters in Hungary; it is not rare, but at the same time not very common. Its cry sounds like “Kirk, kirk, kirk,” or a rapid “ki, ki, ki,” or a long drawn-out “kāk, kāk.”
This bird was the sporting Hawk of our forefathers, and the people of the interior of Asia, and the Kurds, employ it for hunting at the present day. Wherever it goes it carries devastation in its train, especially among the domestic fowls. Its cry is loud and protracted. “Iwiā!” it repeats quickly on seizing its prey. When
pairing the note is Gāck, gāck, gāck,” and then more rapidly “Giā, giack, giack.”
The Sparrow-hawk is well known all over Great Britain and also in Ireland, in all those districts which are well timbered. Its food consists for the most part of small birds, from the Thrush to the Wren. These are snapped up as the bird glides stealthily along the hedgerows or on the outskirts of some wood. In our own country it has been trained to take Partridges, Quails, etc. In India and Japan also it is used by the native falconers. It is a bold daring raider of our woods and fields. This bird has a history which reaches back into the far past. It received its latin name, Accipiter nisus, because of a myth relating to King Nisus of Megara, who, it is said, had one hair of red-gold colour, on the preservation of which depended the conservation of his kingdom. Scylla, the daughter of Nisus, being in love with Minos, King of Crete, son of Jupiter and Europa, treacherously cut the golden hair of her father Nisus, and therefore he and his country were easily vanquished. The gods, angry with the unnatural daughter, changed her into a Lark, and Nisus into a Sparrow-hawk, under which form the unhappy father pursues his daughter unceasingly, in order to satisfy a thirst for vengeance. The ancients had all sorts of mysterious ideas, in connection with the Sparrow-hawk; they believed, for one thing, that he was the primogenitor of the Cuckoo. There is always something interesting in such old myths, in spite of their apparent absurdity.
Somerville, in “Field Sports,” takes only the falconer’s view of the Sparrow-hawk, when he says:
The male Sparrow-hawk is about 12 inches long, the female often 15 inches. It has a long tail; its legs are slender, long and bare of feathers. The claws are sharp as needles. The toes are strong and the middle one is very long and slender. The bill is abruptly curved from the base, with a greenish-yellow cere. The plumage is bluish-grey above; while beneath, on the belly, it is crossed with wavy lines on a light ground. The tail has five dark ribbon-like bands across it. The Sparrow-hawk nests by preference in spruce plantations at a height of from 12 to 15 feet; it also makes use of deserted crows’ nests. The clutch consists of four or five, occasionally six, and still more rarely seven eggs, chalky-white or greenish in colour, with drab-coloured spots.
The Goshawk is bold in attack, and powerful in thrust. It is comparatively easy to tame, or at all events shows a certain tractability. Its aspect is cunning and cruel, and its claws must be carefully avoided. It is the terror of the poultry-yard and the dove-cote. When pursuing its prey nothing can divert its attention. It will even penetrate into the interior of a house. It will steal any warm-blooded animal that it can overcome, even an old hare. It seizes little Siskins, Goldfinches, Weasels, squirrels, and even mice. It lives in a constant state of warfare with the Crows. The latter birds fall upon it in flocks, pull and touzle it, when they catch it, but the Hawk usually carries the day. With a mighty thrust he seizes his prey from among the black mass, and gets away from his pursuers. It likes best districts where wood and field alternate, but it also settles in the neighbourhood of villages where it causes great damage among the poultry.
Next to the Lanner—falco lanarius—the Goshawk was the favourite among sportsmen in the olden days as indeed it still is among the nomadic tribes of Asia.
The Goshawk—Goosehawk—comes to Great Britain as an occasional visitor only, in autumn, winter, and now and again in the spring. There used to be some eyries in old fir-woods in the valley of the Spey a century ago, but in Scotland the Peregrine Falcon is called the Goshawk. In some old Scottish works on Falconry it is stated that the best Goshawks came from Ireland.
I know a place in Southern Germany, a sandy, raised piece of ground, in the middle of a wood, near the point of a peninsula, where only high fir-trees are; and there the bold Goshawk has his bulky nest which he uses year after year. On a clearing close to the Goshawk’s nest there lie innumerable remains of Starlings and young hares. The Starlings fear him greatly; when he comes gliding low in pursuit of his quarry over the marshy ground beyond his wood, they keep close to the Crows, which are numerous on this peninsula. They feed with these birds whenever the Goshawk is in their neighbourhood, knowing that the Crows will attack him sturdily. During the skirmish with the Crows, the knowing Starlings make away from the scene.
The Goshawk punishes that bad but beautiful bird, the Jay, who does more harm here than the Sparrow-Hawk and all the three species of Butcher-birds put together. The Sparrow-Hawk attacks the Jay also; but he only gets the better of him after a long struggle, whereas the Goshawk punishes quickly.
As I stood under the high fir-tree from which a pair of Goshawks took flight on my approach, one of the sudden thunderstorms common to the neighbourhood at this time of year broke overhead, and I had to shelter long, so that I had time to marvel at the great quantity of creatures these birds had taken to their family larder—hares, starlings, pigeons, ducks, and poultry of all sizes. The farmer here dreads it more than he does any other bird of prey, and we have no cause to regret its ceasing to build in our midst. A male and a female bird were caught in a trap in the forest of Bowland, Lancashire, about the year 1835; now only an occasional bird is to be seen.
A French writer says that the Goshawk is still used in Persia in hunting the gazelle, and that it is trained to feed on that creature’s beautiful eyes by placing its food in the empty eye-sockets of a stuffed gazelle, so that when used in the hunt the Goshawk stops its victim by attacking and tearing out its eyes—a horribly cruel form of sport.
Keats writes:
and Young:
Burns says:
In the young bird the underpart is clay colour with narrow cross stripes and large longitudinal flecks. The iris golden-yellow; feet sulphur yellow. Claws strong and sharp. The adult has a narrow white line about the ear coverts and the eye; upper parts ash-brown; four broad dark bars on the tail; underparts white, thickly barred with ash-brown; cere, iris, and legs yellow. Length of the male 20 inches; of the female 23 inches.
The large nest of the Goshawk is composed of hard twigs. The eggs, usually four, are pale bluish-grey, but later they become dirty greenish-yellow, and sometimes have a few rusty or olive markings.
Called in Germany the Tree Falcon.
Of all the Hungarian falcons the Hobby has the swiftest flight; he even pursues the Swallow with success. All the small birds scream with terror when this bird appears. The Swallow dart in an agony of fear under their eaves; the Larks and other small birds press themselves down on the earth; the Quails and Partridges do the same. If a little bird happens to be in flight it tries with all its strength to soar higher and higher, so that the Falcon may remain beneath it, otherwise it is a lost bird. If the Falcon gets above, it shoots like an arrow, with closed wings, down on to the bird. The Hobby does not despise a grasshopper as food, in the twilight a moth does not come amiss; indeed it has lately been observed that it sometimes snaps at bees. But it does not eat carrion.
In the olden days the Hobby has also been used to hunt small birds.
At the present day it is a great friend to the railway, where it circles about the trains and drives away the small birds. It is by no means rare in Hungary.
In England the Hobby arrives about the latter part of May, and it may at intervals be found breeding in most of the Southern counties, notably in Hampshire. Once it nested in Essex pretty regularly, also to a certain extent in Suffolk and Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire and Norfolk, rarely in Yorkshire, sometimes in the Midlands, but in the West and in Wales it is scarce. It has never been known to nest in Scotland, and very few Hobbies have been seen in Ireland.
It will follow the sportsman and seize a Quail in front of him, according to the late Howard Saunders, but Lord Lilford demurred to this, and said a Hobby will wait on over ranging dogs, on the chance of a young or moulting Skylark, but never attack game birds, as it could not hold them. It is a terror to Larks as well as Swallows, but it does some good in reducing the numbers of cockchafers and dragonflies, which are favourite articles of its diet, with other small insects.
In our country it never makes a nest for itself, but it takes possession of one that has been built by a Crow, Magpie or other bird, in a tree. The female has a curious habit of brooding on an empty nest or upon eggs of the Kestrel before she lays her own. In autumn it leaves the woodlands to take to the open country.
Cowley wrote:
And Dryden:
The Hobby is as big as a small pigeon, but has a slenderer body. The tip of the wing reaches to the end of the tail or even beyond it. Legs and cere are yellow. The eyes are dark brown, with a keen expression. The serrated bill is yellowish at its base, but black at the tip, which is strongly curved. The back is slate-coloured, while breast and belly are marked with black longitudinal stripes on a light ground. The Hobby builds its nest in the tops of high trees in small woods. The eggs number three or four, and are marked with thick rusty-brown spots and streaks on a ground-colour of pale buff.
The Kestrel also has a beautiful flight; but it is not able to catch small birds when on the wing. It is a master in the art of remaining in one spot in the air, with a very slight apparent motion of the wings. It stops suddenly in its flight at about the height of an ordinary church tower, bends its spread tail stiffly downwards and beats rapidly with its wings. It often poises itself in this way over meadows, cornfields and moorlands, and marks with its brown, sharp eyes any mouse or marmot that slips out of its hole. Sometimes it finds a brood of young birds, and these it does not spare. Crickets, grasshoppers and lizards also fall a prey to this hunter, but mice form its chief diet, and for this reason the bird is useful. When it has caught sight of its prey from a height in the air it suddenly closes its wings and drops, but when quite near the ground it spreads them again, and thus picks up its victim. It eats the smaller insects out of its claws while flying; but larger prey it carries to a quiet spot. Its twittering cry is often heard; it sounds like “Klee, klee, klee.” It leaves Hungary in severe winters. The Kestrel is the most numerous of the birds of prey in that country, where it is quite at home, even in the rush and noise of towns.
The Kestrel is commonly known as the Wind-hover, on account of its habit of hanging motionless in the air against the wind. It has a very graceful flight. This Falcon is quite the commonest of the British birds of prey, and we should have still more of these useful Falcons in our country were it not for the prejudice and ignorant ideas of so many of our gamekeepers and farmers. In Scotland the former are becoming much more aware of the harmlessness and the usefulness of the Kestrel. Considering the fact that the creatures forming its principal food are mice, it is strange that our agriculturalists have not valued its services sooner. The gracefulness of its flight makes it an interesting point in a landscape. It is as well known to country children in our Southern counties as is the Cuckoo. If their nest is robbed before the full number of eggs is laid the pair will remove such eggs as are left to the next suitable empty nest they can find and proceed with their family duties there. The Kestrel is a pleasanter bird to keep as a pet than others of his family; it is easily tamed, and afterwards can be kept at liberty, as it will come to call or whistle if it is fed regularly at the same time and place. The late Lord Lilford, who knew more practically about Falcons than most ornithologists said: “I cannot altogether acquit the Kestrel of an occasional bit of poaching; a small Partridge or Pheasant astray in the grass is no doubt too tempting a morsel to be resisted, but any petty larceny of this sort may well be condoned on account of the great number of field-mice and voles destroyed by these birds.” In Spain its food consists chiefly of beetles.
A great many of our Kestrels leave us at the approach of winter when the food they like best is too hard to find.
The Kestrel is about the same size as the Hobby, but is a slenderer bird, and its tail is longer. The tail is of a beautiful grey colour and extends far beyond the tips of the wings. Near its extremity it is adorned with a broad, dark, transverse bar; the tip itself, however, is white. The back is reddish with dark, triangular markings; the flanks light-coloured with black longitudinal marks. The bill is curved from the base, and is short and strongly hooked. Cere and feet are yellow. The tail of the female has several narrow transverse bars, with tip as in the male. For nesting places the Kestrel chooses by preference ruins, towers, and lofty crags, very seldom selecting a site in a tree. It lays four or five eggs, rarely more than six. They are thickly spotted and splashed with brownish-red on a light ground.
The Merlin or Stone-hawk (Falco æsalon) is the smallest bird of our British Falcons. It breeds regularly on our moorlands, not in such numbers in the South as beyond Derbyshire. In many parts of Wales too it nests. It is fairly common too in the mountainous parts of Ireland. In the autumn the dashing little fellow comes down to the coast and bays where he can prey on Dunlins, Snipe and other waders. He has high courage and will kill birds you would not think him capable of mastering. The Merlin will kill the Skylark if pinched by hunger, but both he and the Hobby prefer birds of the Finch family.
(Formerly known as the Moor-Buzzard.)
The Marsh-Harrier is one of the shyest and most cunning of our birds of prey. It immediately attracts attention by its size and its constant activity; but it requires a good sportsman to get a shot at it. It is most easily got at when feasting among the high grass at the edge of the reedy marsh; it then forgets to be prudent and sometimes takes flight only too late. Early and late it hovers over the borders of the marshes and reed-beds, sweeping, circling without rest, now and then making a swift descent into the rushes and the sedges and securing its prey. There is no small creature of the marsh, the bog, the heath, or the moor that this bird will not take; it works special destruction among the singing birds which nest among the reeds and sedges. It does not wait for the young birds to be hatched, but is very clever in breaking open the eggs and devouring the contents, always bringing them on to dry land for the purpose.
The birds of the reed-land know this raider well, and as soon as the first flap of his wing is heard the terrified Lapwings, Gulls, Terns, and others, arise with loud cries and attack him tooth and nail. When brooding it lives almost exclusively by egg stealing; later on the moor hens afford provender for this insatiable thief. It leaves Hungary for the winter, but returns in early spring. Its cry varies. In spring it is “kei, kei,” in autumn it is like that of the Jay. The female utters a loud “pitz! pitz.”
This bird is common in the Hungarian marshes.
The drainage of our Eastern fens and the reclaiming of marshland in Yorkshire, Lancashire, Shropshire, Dorset, Somerset, and some other counties once frequented by this bird has caused it to become scarce where formerly it used to breed freely. Sometimes a pair having wandered over from Holland will try to rear a brood in our Norfolk Broads district, but the sportsman—sic—and the collector will not allow them to succeed. In Ireland the bird was formerly common enough about Lough Erne, along the Shannon valley, in Co. Cork, and other districts, but during the last fifty years the gamekeepers have nearly exterminated it by poison. It is known to be a great destroyer of the eggs and young of Waterfowl, but during most of the year it feeds on small mammals, frogs, and reptiles as well as birds.
This is the Duck-Hawk of the marshmen. When the sun is glinting through the mist he may be seen gliding hither and thither, low down over the grey-green flats. At noon he is high up in the clear blue sky. The tender young ducks—called “flappers” are his favourite diet.
Jean Ingelow, in “The Four Bridges,” says: