No distinction was made when we were talking about hack and the manning of hawks between the different species to which they happen to belong. Nor is it necessary to insist much upon the distinction even down to the time when they have been reclaimed and are on the point of being entered. But whereas all those which we have been considering are “hawks of the lure,” we have seen that the short-winged hawks, which remain now to be dealt with, are “hawks of the fist.” Let us see what modifications must be made in the system of training when it is the latter that we are preparing for the field.

In the first place, some authorities question altogether the utility of hack for eyess goshawks or sparrow-hawks. Others maintain that it is quite sufficient to let them loose in a shed or empty room until their feathers are strong. This latter plan seems a very poor sort of compromise between hack and no hack. The eyesses so turned loose get no real liberty, and nothing at all like the amount of exercise which they would if they were in the open. Yet as compensation for what they thus lose they get no advantage that one can easily understand. Without pretending to decide the point in question, I may perhaps venture to say that any hawk’s muscles and eyes, as well as her general health, are more likely to be improved by a free life in the open air than in a sort of big cage. If they are not hacked at all they may of course be very early made to the fist and the hood, and will be manned and in flying order much quicker than hack hawks. Whether this will be of advantage or not, circumstances alone can decide; but a short-winged hawk can generally be allowed a fairly long hack, and yet be ready for her trainer’s use as soon as the latter requires her services. Of course it is not safe if there are other hawks out at hack to let goshawks out anywhere in the vicinity; and I should be very ? 151 ? doubtful about the expediency of hacking sparrow-hawks in the same place as merlins or kestrels. In fact it is not safe even to peg out a goshawk in any place where hack merlins can come. I remember an unfortunate jack—the smallest I ever saw—to whom his owner had given the not very classical name of Jones. This hawk was out at hack in a rather promiscuous way, killing sparrows for himself occasionally, and at other times coming to the lure. I think he knew we laughed at him, and thought that life in general was a sort of joke. But one day the fancy seized him to go and fraternise with a big young goshawk which was out on her bow-perch, duly secured by the leash. The owner was absent at the time; and when he returned there was nothing left of poor Jones other than the feet and a sad litter of pretty brown and white feathers round about the bow-perch.

When your short-winged hawk has been taken up from hack, or at anyrate when she is to be taken in hand, her trainer must set to work very seriously and very promptly at the business of reclamation. This is not, it is true, different at first in character from that required for the long-winged hawks. But it is often different in degree; for personal attention and almost perpetual care are a necessity. Unless you can contrive to have her “waked,” you will have a tough job with her. Anyhow, she must be carried almost all day. Whether eyess or wild-caught, she should be treated very much like a haggard peregrine. Almost superhuman efforts will be required in some cases before she can be manned; yet manned she must be, and that more thoroughly than a long-winged hawk, before you can hope to do much with her. It required a Sir John Sebright to kill a partridge with a sparrow-hawk ten days after she was caught; and it would be still more difficult to kill a blackbird in that time. That is, at least, to first kill it, and then take up the hawk! For carrying is a vice to which the short-winged are naturally disposed, though they are not so bad in this respect as merlins or hobbies. In manning a short-winged hawk it will generally be found better to work very hard for a few days than to work only moderately hard for a much longer time. In fact, a less amount of attention, if concentrated upon the pupil at first, will do more than a much greater share applied to her in smaller doses.

It is not usual to hood sparrow-hawks much after the time when they are being reclaimed. But they should be kept, like all other hawks, accustomed to being hooded, and not by any means allowed to become hood-shy. And while the business of reclamation lasts it is a good plan to tie the tail. This is ? 152 ? done by making a half-knot round the shaft of the outer feather, nearly half-way down, passing the ends over and under the tail, and making a double knot of them on the shaft of the outer feather on the other side. When the hawk bathes the thread is nearly sure to come off; and when she is dry you can put on another. If it stays on, no harm is done. This simple device ensures the tail feathers against any accident which might otherwise occur while she is being handled by the trainer, and perhaps by more or less incompetent assistants. Later on it will be tried hard enough! Some falconers—and good ones, too—despair of saving it for long; but you need not sacrifice it sooner than you have any real occasion. The tail is just as much—or as little—use to the hawk while she is being manned—or, for that matter, when she is flying to the fist—whether it is tied up or not; and in the former state it can come to no harm. Let the hawk at least take her first quarry with undamaged feathers. A moderate degree of coping will be found permissible for short-winged hawks, although it is hardly orthodox to say so. No doubt blunt claws would be detrimental to these hawks in the field; but between bluntness and the needle-like sharpness of the uncoped claw there is a world of difference. The uncoped goshawk not only ruins the best glove in double-quick time, but sometimes in starting from the fist does not completely disengage all eight needles immediately from the buckskin, and so is impeded, and flurried, and vexed in that short temper of her own.

The strength of a goshawk’s beak and feet is almost incredible; and, this being so, it is well to be provided with good store of useful tirings. Heads and necks of fowls will be acceptable; and the more elderly and bony these creatures are the better for the purpose. For during the long process of carrying you will want to give your goshawk plenty of hard morsels to pull at; and none but the toughest will withstand for long the attacks of her sharp-pointed beak. The frequent discussion of bony tirings will wear down that sharpness a little, but I think not quite enough. Goshawks should not be allowed to get at all thin, far less weak; on the other hand, they should not be too freely fed. Half a crop a day of beef or good fowl, or a little more of rabbit, is a very fair allowance, if she has once a week, or rather oftener, a good gorge, with plenty of castings, and the next day very short commons. As soon and as much as possible she must be made to work for her food. That is, she must earn it by showing every day some improvement in her behaviour. If yesterday she bated off ? 153 ? twenty times in ten minutes, you may call it an improvement to-day if she bates off only ten times in the same space of time. So when she has walked even two inches for her food, it is an improvement when she will walk four or five. Step by step you must coax her to do more for you, rewarding her the moment she has given way. And all the time you must be making friends with her. Stroking with the stick or a feather is always to be recommended. But you must be able also to stroke her with your hand as you like without any remonstrance or fear on her part. It is a troublesome job, do what you will, the manning of a short-winged hawk. But the harder you work, and the more patience you can exhibit, the better and quicker you will succeed. It is best to be content at first if very slow progress is made. In the later stages, if you make no mistake, there will be days of much quicker improvement, such as may even sometimes surprise your too desponding mind. Thus though it may be days before you can get her to exchange her walk to the fist for a jump, yet this feat once accomplished, you may have quite a short time to wait before she flies to you the length of the room. On the other hand, a hawk which has come well to you indoors will perhaps not come a foot, or even look at you, when first called off in the open air. Of course for all the early out-door lessons the hawk will be secured by a creance. It is well even to be a little extra-cautious in dispensing with this safeguard, for if a goshawk when only half trained does once make off, it is rather a chance if you ever come up with her again.

In time your goshawk will be manned, and at least partly reclaimed. She will look gladly on you when you come near, and jump or fly to you on small encouragement for a small reward. If you tease her with a morsel of meat, she will perhaps make that quaint crowing sound which sounds like a mild protest against your hard-heartedness. When you hold out your fist temptingly with a nice piece of food in it, she will fly fifty yards to you at once. If now you have carried her sufficiently throughout the process of reclaiming, she will not need much to bring her into “yarak”; that is, into a state of eagerness for killing quarry. A small dose of purgative medicine may be given, and after twelve hours’ fast, a small feed of very good food, without any castings, and on the next day she may be entered.

Female goshawks are now usually trained chiefly for hares or rabbits. Males should always be tried first at partridges or pheasants; and if they are not good enough for such quarry, ? 154 ? may be degraded to water-hens and the like. The bagged quarry for entering should, in the one case, be a rabbit, and in the other, a partridge or house-pigeon. When a rabbit is used, a short, tough cane may be attached crosswise to the end of a very short creance, which will serve to prevent the quarry from disappearing bodily down a burrow. The partridge or pigeon should not, of course, be a first-rate flier; or, at least, he may have a longer creance to carry. Let the hawk take her pleasure on the first live quarry killed; and next day give a very light feed, not later than noon. On the third day she may be flown either at a better bagged quarry or at a wild one. She should have a very good start for her first real flight, and in a country free from burrows or impenetrable covert. Then, if she only starts, she ought to kill in the case of a rabbit. Nothing is more bloodthirsty than a young goshawk in yarak; nor, in proportion to its size, has so much strength in its grasp. When once the four long daggers with which each of her feet is armed are imbedded in the head or neck of a rabbit or leveret, it is generally all up with that unlucky beast. He may jump and kick and roll over in his frantic efforts to escape. He may by the latter tactics force the hawk to let go for a time, though this is by no means always the result even of a complete somersault. But if the grip is thrown off, the respite is short. Before the quarry can make use of what wits are left to him, the pursuer is on him again—this time probably with a still firmer hold than before. Though a rabbit is fast for a quadruped, and the goshawk slow for a hawk, yet the advantage in pace is always with the latter; and though she may be thrown out again and again by the doubles of the quarry, yet in an open space speed must tell, if the pursuer is in condition.

Nevertheless, as it is often difficult and sometimes impossible to find rabbits in open places, it is advisable to let the first flight for your beginner be as easy as you can. When she has taken an undersized rabbit or leveret, she may be advanced to a full-grown rabbit, and thence, after a few kills, to a full-grown hare, if your ambition is to fly hares. Very possibly it may be necessary to throw her off at the quarry and not expect her to start of her own accord. She may also refuse more than once, and yet be in the mind—that capricious and wayward mind o............