visible, and the tail depending, the hawk had it by the shoulders or
head. Flying without the least apparent effort, the bird cleared the
elms, and I lost sight of him beyond them. Now, the kestrel is but a
small bird, and taking into consideration the size of the bird, and the
weight of a rat, it seems as great a feat in proportion as for an eagle
to snatch up a lamb.

Some distance up the road, and in the corner of an arable field, there
was a wheat rick which was threshed and most of the straw carted away.
But there still remained the litter, and among it probably a quantity
of stray corn. There was always a flock of sparrows on this litter--a
flock that might often be counted by the hundred. As I came near the
spot one day a sparrow-hawk, whose approach I had not observed, and
which had therefore been flying low, suddenly came over the hedge just
by the loose straw.

With shrill cries the sparrows instantly rushed for the hedge, not two
yards distant; but the hawk, dashing through the crowd of them as they
rose, carried away a victim. It was done in the tenth of a second. He
came, singled his bird, and was gone like the wind, before the whirr of
wings had ceased on the hawthorn where the flock cowered.

Another time, but in a different direction, I saw a hawk descend and
either enter, or appear to enter, a short much-cropped hedge, but twenty
yards distant. I ran to the spot; the hawk of course made off, but there
was nothing in the bush save a hedge sparrow, which had probably
attracted him, but which he had not succeeded in getting.

Kestrels are almost common; I have constantly seen them while strolling
along the road, generally two together, and once three. In the latter