in,
the roots of things, the fruits, the tree bark, even the eggs and young
of useful birds. I am their chief Harrier; by chance only, not choice,
am I a cannibal."

[Illustration: Marsh Hawk.]

"A very honest statement," said the Eagle. "Acquitted! Sharp-shinned
Hawk, it is your turn."

This little Hawk, only a foot long, was bluish-gray above and had a
black tail barred with ashy; his white breast was banded with
reddish-brown, and he had a keen, fierce eye.

"I have very little to say for myself," he began. "Everywhere in North
America I am a cannibal. I know I am small, but I can kill a bird bigger
than myself, and I have a big brother who is a regular Chicken and Hen
Hawk. I hide my nest in the lengths of thick evergreens, or on a rocky
ledge, and all the year round I take my own wherever I find it. I prefer
to prey on birds--Dove or Sparrow, Robin or Thrush, song bird or
Croaker--all are alike to me. I consider myself a true sportsman, and I
do not like such tame game as mice or frogs. I pounce or dart according
to my pleasure; I can fly faster than any one of you, and few small
birds escape my clutches. Sometimes in winter I make my home near a
colony of English Sparrows and eat them all for a change, just to see
how it feels to be of some use to House People; but in spite of this I
am a bold, bad bird, and as every one knows it I may as well say that I
take pride in my reputation, and do not intend to reform!"

[Illustration: Sharp-Shinned Hawk.]

"Guilty!" said the Eagle solemnly. "Red-shouldered Hawk next."

The Red-shouldered Hawk held up his head proudly and returned the
Eagle's gaze without flinching. He was a fine muscular bird, standing a
little under two feet high, with deep rusty-red shoulders and
reddish-brown back, while his head, neck, and under parts were spotted
and cross-barred with rusty and white. He had a black tail crossed by
half a dozen white bars.

[Illustration: Red-Shouldered Hawk.]

"I am a Hawk of eastern North America, living from the great plains to
the Atlantic coast, going northward to the British lands and southward
to the warm-watered Gulf of Mexico. I am often called Hen Hawk by those
who speak without thinking, but in truth I am not much of a bird-thief,
for a good reason. I am a thoughtful bird, with the deliberate flight of
a Night Owl, rather than the dash of my daylight brethren. I clear the
fields of mice and other gnawers, besides spiders, grasshoppers, and
sna