After a day of unsuccessful flights the falconer returning sadly with his discouraged hawks may derive some consolation from the thought that he has at least brought them all safe back. On the other hand, the triumphs of the most successful afternoon are a good deal marred when one of the best performers has been left out, and the quarry-book has to be noted up, opposite her name, with the unpleasant word “lost.” Foremost amongst the dangers and difficulties which beset the falconer, more plentifully than any other sportsman, is the risk which constantly hangs over him of losing the faithful ally upon whose service he depends for carrying on his sport. Every time that he puts a hawk upon the wing he has to face this contingency, which is more or less probable according to the nature of the flight which is attempted. No questions are more often addressed by the uninitiated to a falconer than these: “How do you get your hawks back?” and “Do they always come to you?” If he is rash enough to answer the last query in the affirmative he may be utterly confounded by having to confess that the very next time he flew his hawk she did not come back! Of course, in exercising an obedient hawk when she is sharp-set the risk run is infinitesimally small. But it would be wrong even then to say that it does not exist. And unfortunately the harder the flight undertaken, and the better the hawk, the greater is the danger which her owner has to face.
It is unnecessary to enumerate the many causes which may lead to the loss of a hawk. They have been mentioned incidentally in many of the foregoing pages. But it is well to remember that a very large percentage of the losses which annually occur is due to mere carelessness on the part of the falconer. As long as you make no mistake, and give your hawks a fair chance, the danger of an out-and-out loss is ? 214 ? reduced to very moderate dimensions. The worst cases, as well as the commonest, are those in which the man is blamable for some imprudence, and not the hawk for any vice or fault. A much greater number of hawks annually get loose with the leash still attached to their jesses than anyone would be likely to suppose. Whenever such a mishap occurs a search should instantly be made for the fugitive, for every minute which elapses between the time of her loss and her recovery makes it more probable that she will not again be seen alive. The long tail of the leash becomes a sort of death-trap affixed to the hawk herself. As often as she takes perch in a tree, or flies over a telegraph-wire, or near to anything around which the hanging strap can coil itself, there is the chance of its getting entangled, in which case the hawk, hanging head downwards will, after many struggles, perish ignominiously, perhaps before the eyes of her helpless owner.
Even if the leash is not attached when the hawk gets away, or luckily drops out of the swivel, there is no little danger that the jesses, joined together at their ends by the swivel, will get hitched up, and a similar disaster result. All accidents which occur in this way are due to sheer carelessness. No hawk should ever be put upon the wing at all unless her swivel has first been detached. Even the jesses, if they have big slits in their ends, should be straightened out when they have been freed from the swivel, so that there is no chance of their getting hooked up on a nail or strong thorn.
On the first intelligence that a trained hawk has got loose, the falconer should start in pursuit, provided with a dead lure in any case, and, if the hawk was not sharp-set at the time, with a live lure also. The more searchers that can be sent out, the better; and these should make inquiries of every person they meet. Any of them who are not competent to take up a hawk themselves may carry a whistle, or pistol, or any signal agreed upon, by which they may call up the falconer if they get tidings or a view of the truant. In the latter case they must take care not to alarm the hawk or give her any inducement to move about, for each time she moves she runs a fresh risk of getting entangled and brought to grief. The search for a hawk which has a leash or swivel attached is not altogether the same as the search for one that has only her bells and jesses. For the fear is now not that the runaway, having tasted the sweets of liberty, will little by little acquire or resume the habits of a wild hawk, but that, being still as ready as ever to come to the lure ? 215 ? or the fist, she will involuntarily commit suicide by hanging herself head downwards before you have time to find her and interfere. Thus the searchers will go about their work with all the speed consistent with thoroughness, visiting first the places where there is most danger of a fatal disaster, such as wire fencing, telegraph lines, and such bushy or thorny trees as the lost hawk has ever been known to frequent. In an open country loose hawks with their leashes on will sometimes escape with their lives for days together, and even kill quarry, and keep themselves in high condition. These, however, are the exceptions; and in a wooded country such a fortunate issue to the adventure would be unlikely.
When the loss of a hawk has occurred in consequence of her having killed out of sight, and gorged herself before she could be discovered, the chances are that she will remain for the night in the neighbourhood of the place where she flew the quarry upon which she dined. A visit will be paid, therefore, next morning at daybreak to this part of the country; and the falconer must not assume that if he fails to find quickly the object of his search she is to be looked for somewhere else. For it is unlikely, wherever she is, that she will pay any attention to him or his lure until she has cast. This she may not do, especially if it was late in the previous day when she was lost, until some hours after a spring or summer sunrise. Consequently, even if the searcher gets away from this most likely spot, and explores the plantations for considerable distances round about, he should return to it from time to time, on the chance that she has been there all the while, waiting till her appetite came before making her presence known. As the day grows older, the radius within which the search is continued may be indefinitely enlarged. Every labourer going to his work, every farmer going his rounds, every shepherd walking towards his fold, should be interrogated when met, and asked, if they see anything of the lost hawk, to report it in some way. The neighbouring keepers may be warned, although probably they will long before this have been informed that trained hawks are in the neighbourhood. A man will hardly fly his hawks in a part of the world where he does not know that the keepers are to be relied upon.
When the hawk has been lost through raking away or checking at chance quarry, the work of finding her necessitates often very great exertions and fatigue. There is nothing particularly unusual in the fact of a passage peregrine wandering off in an ? 216 ? afternoon seven or eight miles from the place where she was lost sight of. To explore at all thoroughly an area eight miles long and ten broad at the far end means, of course, a great many miles travelling, even if the country is exceptionally open and clear of trees. Nevertheless, the dull and dreary journey must be undertaken if there is a real desire to recover the wanderer. The best hawk-finder is he who travels the farthest and sees the greatest number of possible assistants in his search. If you make an excuse for shirking a visit to a particular copse or valley, it is as likely as not that you will hear afterwards, to your chagrin, that the missing hawk was seen there, and might easily have been caught. If you will not walk a quarter of a mile out of the way to hail a passer-by who is going in what you think an unlikely direction, that will perhaps be the very man who, ten minutes afterwards, comes across the object of your pursuit.
There is not much to guide a man in choosing what direction he should prefer for going about his search. But, other influences being equal, the truant is more likely to have gone down-wind than up. Weak hawks especially, when they have no particular object in facing the wind, are apt to shirk the trouble of flying against it, and drift away to leeward. Of course, if it is an eyess that has gone astray, and the place where she was hacked is within easy reach, there is a more or less strong probability that she may have gone towards it. Eyess hobbies, when lost, are said almost invariably to go back to the hack place in this way. Merlins have been known to do so, though not within my own experience. But a really strong and fast hawk, in full flying order, seems often to assume almost at once the r?le of a wild one. Such a hawk, especially if fond of soaring, soon sees that there will be little difficulty in finding her own living. And she sets about it without any particular influence to guide her, starting in whatever direction chance may decide, and shifting her ground as capriciously as it is possible to imagine. When Tagrag, already mentioned, was out, he would be reported one night in a certain plantation, and early the next morning would be seen three or four miles off on the opposite side of the small village where he ought to have been housed, and where his brothers were (or ought to have been) lamenting his absence from the screen-perch.
Farm-houses and all habitations near the spot where a hawk was lost should be visited without delay. Not only are they generally frequented by either pigeons or fowls, towards which ? 217 ? a stray peregrine or goshawk may well cast a hungry glance, but their shelter is always a tempting haven for any wandering house-pigeon which may have been chased and bested in the air. As the falconer proceeds from place to place, swinging his lure and calling or whistling, if it is his custom to use such means of bringing up his hawk, he should note the behaviour of the rooks and other birds within sight The presence of any hawk, especially if carrying a bell, causes some excitement amongst the feathered world. The unwarlike wanderers of the air, when an armed cruiser comes in sight, exhibit some such signs of panic as might be expected of a fleet of merchantmen if a hostile battleship were viewed in the offing. The symptoms most remarkable are generally those observed in a flight of rooks, which often begins to whirl about in the air, as if it were composed of escaped lunatics, shooting up and wheeling suddenly in unexpected directions, filling the air at the same time with discordant croaks and screams, and with big black specks, which hurl themselves about as if driven by impulses which they themselves cannot understand or control. But many other birds, by their strange movements and queer attitudes, will betray the near presence of a hawk to whose visits they are unaccustomed. When a hawk has killed anything, and is pluming or eating it, crows, magpies, and jays have a way of sitting on the top of a neighbouring tree, craning their necks, and peering down with a morbid curiosity as they watch an operation of which they strongly disapprove.
Rooks, starlings, and small birds are all fond of mobbing a strange hawk when they think they can do it with impunity, and swallows occasionally indulge in the same rather adventurous amusement. It is therefore often worth while to make a détour and investigate, whenever any bird seems to be engaged in eccentric and unusual movements. Of the thousand and one causes which may have given rise to such vagaries, only the most practised eye can determine which are likely to be connected with the appearance of the lost hawk, and which are not. The safest plan is to go up and make sure that the commotion is not to be explained in this way. Of course when a hawk has been in the habit of flying any particular quarry, a disturbance amongst birds of that species is more likely to arise from her presence than in other cases. But most peregrines, when they are at large, are fond of taking occasional shots at lapwings, though very seldom with success. Merlins, though they are most partial to skylarks, will make stoops at any bird which ? 218 ? they suppose they can tackle, from a wood-pigeon to a wren; and the short-winged hawks are, of course, almost always ready for any bloodthirsty adventure.
Fortunately stray hawks, at least of the long-winged kinds, do not usually betake themselves to thick places where they cannot easily be seen. In open countries, where alone they should be flown, there is no great choice for them of convenient perching-places. Probably the most likely of all stations for them to take up are the tops of ricks; and here a peregrine, or even a merlin, can be distinguished at a great distance by a pair of good field-glasses. As a rule, the best hawks like the highest perches, where they can command, as from a watch-tower, the farthest view of the country over which they hope for a chance flight. A hawk which takes perch on low railings or on the ground is not usually much of a performer. Some of these are very fond of perching on fallow-fields, where it is almost impossible for an unpractised eye to distinguish their plumage against the colour of the ground. A knowledge of their ways will make the falconer aware that in such a field, however apparently flat, there will be either mounds or small peaks and projections of earth where clods have been unevenly turned up, which a hawk is sure to choose as a resting-place in preference to the surrounding ground for some distance on every side. The predilections of each of his hawks for particular kinds of perching-places will generally have been noted to some extent by the falconer, who will naturally look for each of them on the sort of stand which he knows that she most often prefers. Trees, while still leafy, are some of the worst places in which to have to search, and of course they are very common resorts. A lost hawk may be watching her pursuers as unseen as King Charles in the oak, and not deigning to come down to the most enticing dead lure, until, having cast, she feels an inclination to do so.
When a lost hawk is not recovered early in the morning a very good plan is to fly another, either at the lure or at some quarry, in the neighbourhood of the place where the loss occurred, or where you have ascertained that the truant ............