ercel, is not
so much prized in falconry as the female, which is larger and
fiercer. There was not one Barbary falcon, for on making inquiry
Owen was told that the bird he was looking at was a goshawk, a much
more beautiful hawk it seemed to him than the peregrine, especially
in colour; the wings were not so dark, inclining to slate, and under
the wings the breast was white, beautifully barred. It stood much
higher than the other hawks; and Owen admired the bird's tail, so
long, and he understood how it governed the bird's flight, even
before he was told that if a hawk lost one of its tail feathers it
would not be able to fly again that season unless the feather was
replaced; and the falconer showed Owen a supply of feathers, all
numbered, for it would not do to supply a missing third feather with
a fourth; and the splice was a needle inserted into the ends of the
feathers and bound fast with fine thread. The bird's beauty had not
escaped Owen's notice, but he had been so busy with the peregrines
all the morning that he had not had time to ask why this bird wore
no hood, and why it had not been flown. Now he learnt that the
gosshawk is a short-winged hawk, which does not go up in the air, and
get at pitch, and stoop at its prey like the peregrine, but flies
directly after it, capturing by speed of wing, and is used
principally for ground game, rabbits, and hares. He was told that it
seized the hare or the rabbit by the hind quarters and moved up,
finding the heart and lungs with its talons. So he waited eagerly
for a hare to steal out of the cover; but none appeared, much to the
bird's disappointment--a female, and a very fine specimen, singularly
tame and intelligent. The hawk seemed to understand quite well what
was happening, and watched for an opportunity of distinguishing
herself, looking round eagerly; and so eager was she that sometimes
she fell from the falconer's wrist, who took no notice, but let her
hang until she fluttered up again; and when Owen reproved his
cruelty, he answered:

"She is a very intelligent bird and will not hang by her legs longer
than she wants to."

It was in the afternoon that her chance came, and a rare one it was.
Two bustards rose out of a clump of cacti growing about a deserted
hermitage. The meeting of the birds must have been a chance one, for
they went in different directions, and flying swiftly, soon would
have put the desert between themselves, and the falconers, and each
o