Page:The peregrine falcon at the eyrie (IA cu31924084757206).pdf/23

 Rh sea. If, after this, readers complain that the Peregrines as figured disappoint them in not looking sufficiently fierce, I can only plead in extenuation that these photographs, being taken in the eyrie, are really nursery pictures, and that I can imagine even Lord Kitchener might lose his sternness under such circumstances. Although in my belief the Tiercel is fiercer and bolder than the Falcon, yet in the relaxation of the eyrie I have seen him, when wailing to the Falcon to bring him food for the young, assume a whimsically childlike and plaintive expression that might have evoked sympathy from a dove. Those who remain unsatisfied—and I hope there will be many—have only to spend a little time and trouble in making a hiding-shed and finding an eyrie, and then they will see something far better—the birds themselves.

Before coming to the results, a brief record of the three years' operations may not be out of place. In 1910 I worked from one of my late friend, Hugh Earl's tents, a self-supporting gipsy tent in which the arching canes are fixed above into a pair of ridge boards, and below into a wooden frame, so that when erected and covered with its cover of Willesden canvas, it can be easily carried about, like a huge bandbox, and placed on any flat surface. On first examining the eyrie, the difficulty was where to place it; there seemed only two sites, and both of them bad. One was just in front of the eyrie, where, among the almost perpendicular rocks about twenty feet below the top of the precipice, there was a flat, earthy space ten feet long by five wide. This was at once rejected as being much too close to the birds and because it was four feet lower than the eyrie. The alternative site was a flat rock amid the jumble that formed the edge of the precipice; but although flat it was on an incline, and though giving an excellent view into the eyrie below, it was nearly thirty feet away. However, it was a case of Hobson's choice, so the tent, having been painted to match its surroundings, was left there for a few days to accustom the birds, while a varied assortment of rocks, placed inside, prevented it from being blown away. Then I spent six most uncomfortable hours in it. Though it looked fairly right from the outside, once inside it was like lying on the side of a roof among a lot of loose rocks that threatened an avalanche with every movement. On being released I found that