The Peregrine Falcon at the Eyrie/Last Days in the Eyre

by Francis Heatherley

 

Chapter V.

 

Last Days in the Eyrie.

 

Before describing the last few watches, I might mention that, although I describe the birds as toothless, there is a little triangular nick on each side of the beak into which a toothlike projection in the lower jaw fits, a convenient arrangement with a large mouthful. The castings so frequently mentioned were hard, grey slug-shaped bodies, entirely composed of compressed feathers. One of average size, which looked like half a squashed fat cigarette, when teased out in a half-pint bottle of water, formed a dense cloud of down and feathers. Mr. George Mitchell of Bingley, an ardent follower of the ancient sport of kings, tells me that falconers examine the castings carefully; a moist and loose casting denotes ill-health of the falcon.

During my next watch, on June 6th, I noted that the young did a great deal of preening. Their heads are quite dark now, with just a speck of down here and there, the breasts are beginning to feather, and on their backs are two narrow feathered bands, making a pattern like an inverted figure 8. The base of the tail is still downy. One of the young females, after she had preened, went to sleep at the front of the eyrie, and with her head tucked over her left shoulder looked as if decapitated. The young occasionally stand on one foot, generally the left. In preening they pass each feather through the beak, and the liberated down either floats away or is swallowed. When they shake themselves a lot comes off and floats away. One youngster cocked his head round and watched the down floating upwards. I examined a piece which came into the shed; it had a stem about one-eighth of an inch long, branching into forty streamers. As each finished preening, it backs to the edge of the eyrie and, grasping the rock firmly with its talons, beats its wings vigorously for a minute or two. The young ravens used to do the same thing during their last week at home. There are other signs of wandering as they emulate one another's efforts in climbing on to the surrounding rocks; one of the young females has, in fact, disappeared from the eyrie. One young male seems very empty, and is whimpering every few minutes. He has climbed up on to B and is standing beside his big sister. She is warming herself in the rays of the declining sun; her full crop gives her quite a high-bosomed appearance, and her inclination is evidently towards a quiet dose. But the whimpers disturb her until at last every time he opens his beak she bends over and puts hers into it, as if feeding him, or else closes his beak with her mandibles. Presently he leaves her and gets down into the eyrie to look for something to eat. He attacks the stem of the giant mallow growing in the eyrie, and gets his talons so deeply into it that he has to fall down and flutter about before he can get free. At 7.15 p.m, the Tiercel arrived with a bird and devoted himself entirely to this hungry male at first. While this was going on I happened to knock over a tin in the shed. The Tiercel, at the sudden noise, stopped to listen with his beak open, which led to a misunderstanding. The youngster had been yapped at for not being prompt enough, so now he darted forward and, seizing his father's tongue, tried to pull it out. There now ensued a regular tug-of-war; the youngster planting his talons well into the ground and leaning back while his father shrieked in agony and, flapping his wings wildly, dragged the youngster, hanging on to his tongue, round and round. At last he shook himself free, and I expected to see an instance of personal chastisement, but the meal was resumed as if nothing had happened. The other two youngsters now joined in, the young female's appetite having revived through watching her brother eat. She not having anything offered to her tried twice to bite a piece out of her father's shoulder, as if to draw attention to her wants. The only unusual circumstances that happened next day were that, early in the morning, the Falcon brought a hen blackbird which she just dropped into the eyrie and then flew away. The female appropriated it to herself, but when she got down to the intestines she passed a coil through her beak as if tasting it, and then left the bird as if distasteful. Then a male seized it and, retiring to a corner, worked hard at it for about five minutes, after which he came to the front of the eyrie and vomited three or four times, each time ejecting a pellet of red flesh the shape of a casting, so that there was evidently something they did not like about that blackbird. Soon after this meal I found the Falcon standing on one of the rocks at the edge of the cliff, all draggled, evidently after a bath. She stood

YOUNG TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS OLD.

Male.⁠Female.⁠Male.⁠Female.

Young Twenty-Eight Days Old.

Light 3, Plate speed 229, Subject number 100, Stop F11, Exposure 1-40sec.

there for three-quarters of an hour performing her toilet and afterwards standing on guard. Later on she flopped on to A and, walking along it, peered down into the eyrie where her young were preening themselves, unconscious of her presence. She had such a marked expression of maternal solicitude that I was tempted to take her, but refrained because her head was in shadow. Then she turned round and, walking up the rock, stood still just where the rock behind made an ugly line. I was inclined to wait for her to walk a bit further; but it was well I took her, for an instant later she flashed away.

June 12th.—Rather a rough landing; the bag containing the spare plates got swamped. On getting to the top of the island I found three of the youngsters there, which did not look hopeful. The young females scuttled off under the rocks, but the male stood his ground and allowed me to put up the camera six feet off and photograph him. Then I turned the camera on to one of his sisters under a shelving rock; she was quite five feet deep, and testing the light there I gave her ten times the exposure I had given her brother. Then I caught all three, and put them back into the eyrie, where I found the smaller male. I blocked up the exits with rocks, but not very hopefully. The next day proved a very unfortunate birthday for me, as I had nothing to do but listen to the old birds luring the young farther and farther away to be fed, so I was very glad when King relieved me at 1 p.m. He reported three of the young on the top of the island. Again the young male stood his ground while his sisters hid, and having nothing better to do I determined to take him, but owing to the situation he had chosen I found it impossible to erect the camera. King suggested moving him, so putting on my gloves I slowly approached him, and still more slowly brought a hand to each side and then gingerly lifted and carried him to the chosen site. I photographed him there with the remains of a puffin at his feet, but was not very satisfied, as he declined to stand on his talons, but sat on his tarsi with his talons looking paralysed. Then as he behaved so well King suggested bringing the rest alongside of him and making a group. So, very cautiously, I seized the others, the smaller male being found in the eyrie. When they were all gathered together the male I had first posed looked so bad that in desperation I gave him a dig in the stomach, when he immediately rose on his talons to avoid falling over. After I had posed them King pointed out that the dock leaves made a very bad background, but on the principle of half a loaf I thought it best not to risk scaring them either by pulling the docks up or transporting the birds once more. There is no

Young Twenty-Nine Days Old.

doubt about the Peregrine being a noble; these young Peregrines seemed prepared to meet unflinchingly whatever fate might have in store for them, and although their parents were both wheeling overhead, screaming blue murder, they themselves seemed to consider it bad form to show any sign of fear. Although for all they knew it meant instant execution, they were undismayed, and

YOUNG TWENTY-NINE DAYS OLD.

Young Twenty-Nine Days Old.

it was not impassiveness, as if one of us clicked his fingers all eyes were quickly turned to him, and as soon as the party broke up the females again scuttled under the rocks. But as I looked at my young nobles I wished all the egg collectors in the three Kingdoms could be present to see the true destiny of the Peregrine eggs they prize so much.