he 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
part of the summer and autumn they seem to be most numerous, hovering
over the recently reaped fields. Certainly there is no scarcity of hawks
here. Upon one occasion, on Surbiton Hill, I saw a large bird of the
same kind, but not sufficiently near to identify. From the gliding
flight, the long forked tail, and large size I supposed it to be a kite.
The same bird was going about next day, but still farther off. I cannot
say that it was a kite, for unless it is a usual haunt, it is not in my
opinion wise to positively identify a bird seen for so short a time.

The thick hedge mentioned is a favourite resort of blackbirds, and on a
warm May morning, after a shower--they are extremely fond of a
shower--half-a-dozen may be heard at once whistling in the elms. They
use the elms