Crazy busy

Things are nuts here. I'm working both jobs right now, and on the only days I have had off since April I had to make a run to New York to see my brother get married.

12+ hours each way, with a two night stay. Crazy.

Coming from North Carolina, it seems strange that going to New York feels like I'm driving to the country. It is a nice drive, but Long.

Gordon came with me and we spent some quality time wandering the woods and fields whenever we got a break. We spent some time walking with my father and the big dogs. Soon these trails would be overgrown for the summer, so it was good we got onto them now.

On the way home, we stopped to see Patrick and his dogs and took a morning to go out hunting. I finally got to meet Gideon, his newest terrier. He is a solid, funny little dog with a brick like body. and boy does he like to hump. Gordon had to keep showing teeth to keep Gideon off of his back.

We wandered the bottom lands of a familiar farm looking for groundhog. We found lots of holes, but soon realized that with the recent rains, much of that area must have been flooded and the groundhogs had moved on.

Late in the morning, I had to leave but we had lost Mountain somewhere - underground. Patrick went to find him. It was a good morning, as usual, spending time in the fields with the dogs - even if we came home empty handed.

I found out later that Mountain had squared off underground with a coon and didn't want to leave it. Patrick was able to dig them both up and release the coon.

I spent the rest of the time making plans for the new hawking season.

There will be news, but right now my time is being spent upgrading my hawk housing, and getting things ready.

There will be new additions, and new challenges.

My posting will probably continue to be erratic until I get it all figured out.

Hunting with a sharp shin

Cold, windy, and crappy describes the weather over the last few weeks. I have been sequestered in my house working on the "honey-do" list.

The harris hawks are together, spending time in and around the nest. I am missing my outside time with the birds (dogs too for that matter).

I was thankful when I got a text from Johnathan asking if I wanted to go hunting with him when he passed through town.

Perfect!

Packed my stuff so that I could change after school and meet him at the fields.

When school let out, it was raining and the wind had picked up.

We decided to give it a try anyway.

We pulled down a muddy track, splashing through puddles and spinning tires (still so glad I bought the Jeep). The fields were plowed a few months back and the was pooling on the short vegetation that grew there. Rain spit from the lead sky.

I don't have much (any) experience with sharp shins and my experience hunting with any small birds are minimal. This little guy was like a rocket, wet feathers and all.

We wandered through the grass, pushing small birds in front of us, Johnathan holding "Lady" up on his fist. A bird would flush, and like a rocket, she would explode after it.

After we pushed them through the grass, we tried our luck along a small, mowed ditch.

Little sparrows bail, the hawk screams after them, and they would dump back into the weeds. It was exciting to watch. I have to admit, it was amazing how well those little birds can hide in any bit of vegetation, and then never flush.

I forgot my camera, but soon the bird was too wet and heavy to fly well. No kills for the day, but a good time nonetheless.

Here is a video of Johnathan's bird catching quail front he deep grass.

Finishing up

I started out the season with an aggressive goal.

35 head of game. That would beat out my all time record by four. I thought at the time it was realistically attainable, if I hunted hard.

I've been a falconer since 1999, hunting squirrels almost exclusively, averaging around 25-30 a season. I hunt two to three times a week. With my growing family - I'm okay with that number

Last weekend was my last hunt for the season. It was planned.

I originally started this blog to toot my hawks horns - so that when breeding time finally happened, people would want to buy my hawks. I have not had them breed yet. I'm not sure why,, but it has been suggested that I might want to try and get them together earlier.

Around here, hawks start pairing up in the next month. During February, I often catch red shouldered hawks in the act. So I decided to put the birds up early, and maybe they will finally breed.

So on Saturday, we went out for our last hunt of the season.

Of course, I forgot my camera.

A pair of red tails were circling over the adjacent field where we were hunting - making me more firm in my decision to be done.

Late season squirrels are tough, and these were no exception. We had a few great chases, but these squirrels were smart - maybe they had been practicing evasive maneuvers with the local red tails.

They knew how to hide behind vine bundles, and run across the ground through the tangles. The hawks had a hard time connecting. Finally, from the top of a pine, the squirrel bailed out, landing in a pile of brush. the hawks couldn't get through, so I started flushing - the hawks gave chase across the forest floor, while I tried to keep up.

Tess did a roll-over into the brush, then pulled back up. She missed.

Then Gonzo dove. The squirrel had tried to squeeze under a downed log, and didn't make it.
I found them with the squirrel half under the log, and Gonzo firmly planted on his back, one talon on the head, the other on his rump.

Quick trade, put the birds back up.

I had about another 20 minutes before I had to head back, maybe time for one more squirrel. It was the last hunt of the season for me, after all.

The next chase was uneventful, except for the fact that this was one wily squirrel. tree to tree, nest, tree, and on, never coming to the ground. Gonzo tore apart two nests, before pulling the squirrel out, boxing with it in mid air, before dropping it.

Tess closed the deal on the ground, crashing into the squirrel.

I seemed like a successful hunt until I saw the bright red blood, it wasn't the squirrels, as it had dripped on the squirrels fur, and stood out in relief against his white belly fur.

I inspected Tess' talons as they held onto the squirrel, they were clean. Traded Tess off, then called up Gonzo.

He had tussled with this squirrel too.

He landed on the glove, great fist response, acting like he was ready to hunt.

His middle toe on the right talon was leaking blood, but it didn't look too bad, until he shifted his feet. The middle toe canted dangerously at the last joint.

It was a bite, and it was deep. The toe was pointing in an unnatural direction.

In 10 plus years hunting squirrels - this was only my second bad bite - and it was in a bad place.

I rushed the birds home, got Gonzo in the house, and immobilized the foot. I have done this type of doctoring before, and I am hopeful that Gonzo will keep the toe. Though he may lose the talon.

Disappointing - to say the least.

We ended the season with 57 head of (furry) game - my most successful ever. The hawks have performed amazingly all season long.

They have done things that I wouldn't have believed just a year ago.

Now I have to worry about that bite. I'll keep monitoring it.

For the next week or so, the birds will be getting fat in their respective cages.

Tess is already there.

Soon, I'll let them get together and cross my fingers.

Meet - Part III

Last Saturday ended with us heading out to a large farm field to watch Ben's falcon fly. He didn't catch anything with his little tiercel, but the flights were spectacular. The day before, he had gotten a double on hooded merganser.

Then a business meeting.

Sunday morning dawned bright and cool. Temps would be rising quickly. We met at McDonalds and headed out to fly Arnaud's merlin.

I am a merlin virgin - I'd never seen one fly. We ended up at a giant farm field with a shallow overgrown ditch running down the center.

Arnaud unhooded the handsome little bird and held him aloft. He roused, and bobbed his head, getting a feel for the lay of the land, then launched.

Once he was airborn, zipping around like a heat seeking missile, it was our job to run through the fields to flush game.

It worked. Pretty soon birds were popping out of the grass like popcorn, and the little falcon was stooping repeatedly. If he missed, he'd turn and wait for the reflush.

Running, ho-ing, and beating at the grass was exhausting - and since the this field held standing water, had potential to create dampness. Arnaud fell in, and I stepped into a hole almost to my knee.

We worked our way down the grass, finally bagging one bird near the end. The merlin snagged it on the wing, carrying it a little ways past. He hopped around in the grass for a bit, then stashed it under a thicker patch of weeds. He hopped up and took to the air again, waiting for another flight.

This was an awesome little bird. We grabbed another one out of the air, and I'm pretty sure he would have kept flying, but we had harris hawks to fly. Arnaud apologized later about the birds lack of "style". I didn't care about its style - he was a cool little rocket, that knew its job. Fun fun.

We moved to another field - one we had been to earlier this weekend. Richard got out his pair of harris hawks. Both birds were wild birds - one trapped in Texas, the other in Arizona.

The birds worked well together, and followed like they were supposed to.

I've been wondering a lot about the differences between the hunting habits of wild caught and captive bred birds. There doesn't seem to be much.

We lined up and coursed a field for these two birds. They followed - we popped a rabbit and the birds followed it from the air. We closed in.

Ho Ho - the rabbit moved and the hawks made pass after pass, before the final squeal of success.

Well done.

Chip showed up with his harris hawks. We got out his and my two and put them all up together again.

I admit, I love having all four birds up together. They work well together and I love the chaos.

We tromped through the woods and saw no game. I was getting nervous that the birds might get bored and start to bicker.

It never happened.

We finally found squirrels in a patch of huge old hardwoods at the back of the property. This tree was so big, it would have taken ten of us holding hands to surround it.

This squirrel knew every nook and cranny of the tree, and the chase was a chess match. One squirrel vs four hawks.

Each branch was as large as a normal tree - and the squirrel would hide over, under, and around these branches. The squirrels strategy was brilliant, until he tried to switch trees. The hawks pressured it to the point where it leapt, and Eli grabbed it.

We traded off and moved to the next giant tree. We chased a few more squirrels, Gonzo took one of them, Eli one other, and ended the day with three more in the bag.

There was a lot of running, falling, laughing - and great chases from both the hawks and the squirrels.

I left the meet with three squirrels that I could claim and a rabbit (plus the one I caught on the way there).

We took a picture of a partial head count for the weekend.

Not too bad.

A very successful weekend. On the way home, I had plenty of time to review what I wanted for the rest of the season, and revised my goals.

Meet - part II

During lunch on our first day of the meet - we reorganized our groups, set things up and got ready to go. Chip, who organized the whole thing, comes up to me and says.

"I wanna go hunting with you."

So we did. It started out with his red tail. Chip hunts with lots of birds, and uses them for abatement as well, and all his birds hunt well.

The red tail was an accomplished hunter and proved it on this outing. With a dozen spectators the red tail chased down and cornered a squirrel in short order.

In a mix of tall pines and hardwoods, the red tail stalked the squirrel as it tried to sneak away and up a tree. The hawk soon cornered it 60 feet up at the top of a pine with no where to go.

He jumped.

The red tail folded and dove. The squirrel hit first, bounced in the leaf litter, and the hawk nailed it on the rebound. One down.

We put the red tail up to get out the harris hawks. Tess and Gonzo got tossed up into the tree and Chip got out his two tiercels - Rudy and Eli.

We've done this before, hunted with all four hawks at once - and it almost isn't fair to the squirrels. What generally results is bedlam - controlled chaos.

The hawks start out working as individuals, but by the end of the hunt, they were coordinating. Eli was the stealth hawk. He tends to wait lower in the trees and wait for the squirrels to bail out. He is very successful with this technique.

The other three hawks will pursue, pushing the squirrel into a mistake. The birds swipe at the squirrel, scraping them from the side of the tree, but the squirrel will circle, corkscrewing around to get away from the hawks.

One squirrel finally found itself at the tippy top of a scrawny oak, clutching on to a spindly limb. Four harris hawks perched around him at each point of the compass.

I can only imagine what the squirrel was thinking.

Multiple chases ensued, Eli took (finished) two of the chases, Tess one and the last one was taken by Gonzo, and was notable.

Gonzo drowned the squirrel in a narrow brook. I have to wonder if he learned this from Tess. Hard to believe it was only coincidence since three of the last five squirrels had been drowned.

We ended our hunt with four squirrels for the afternoon - my take for the whole day was three squirrels and a rabbit, and there was one more day to go (gotta love Sunday Hunting).

Last picture is by Jimmy Campbell, previous are by Paula B Page.

Falconry Meet Part I

I just got back from one of our annual falconry meets. This one was across the state towards Raleigh. I left after work on Friday - but I didn't get far.

As I was crossing the bridge towards the mainland I realized that I was going to be passing right by my little rabbit hole by the bay.

My hawks were already in the car, so.....

Yeah - I stopped. I had a four and a half hour car ride, so how much could this little detour set me back?

It is a small field so I only took out one bird. Gonzo this time. I crashed briers for a while before we got a rabbit moving. Gonzo hasn't seen many rabbits this year, but he followed and pointed like a champ.

It wasn't long before he folded off a branch and dropped like a stone to the base of a tree. I secured the rabbit and gonzo stepped off.

I don't have to trade him off any more. Once I get a hold of whatever he catches, he will step off and wit for you to throw a tidbit for him. It makes transfers really easy.

At one point this weekend, another falconer went in to secure a squirrel that Gonzo had caught (he had my permission). When Gonzo stepped off of it, the falconer looked at me, incredulous. "What do I do now?" He asked. I just laughed. "kill the squirrel. Then toss a tidbit."

It really has gotten that easy.

Back to my trip out - we weren't even to the meet and already we had one in the bag. We wandered for a bit more, chased a squirrel and a few more rabbits, but then I had to get back on the road.

After the four hour trip, we checked into the hotel.

The next morning - we met at McDonalds and divided up the hunting parties. I was flying with James, another harris hawker in the morning. Additionally, we had about a dozen preteen spectators tagging along to watch. We weren't thrilled with the idea, but it got the youngsters out in the woods and that is always a good thing.

What made this particularly interesting for me is that his bird was a passage, trapped in Arizona, just this fall. I've been curious about the differences between passage birds, and captive bred ones ( as I may have the opportunity to go and try and trap this fall).

His bird was well mannered and did everything a hawk was supposed to (considering all the extra people, the hawk did great). No kill on that flight, but the young hawk did fine.

Next we got out my birds - they did great ( I may be biased) We quickly lit upon a squirrel. They chased him across the line of young pine trees, until the squirrel couldn't stand the heat and bailed.

What followed was probably the longest foot chase I have ever seen - maybe 500 yards - through the yong pine trees, with hawks falling from the sky like bombs. The squirrel would weave in and out of the cover of the pines and the hawks just could not connect. Finally, the squirrel made it to a large oaks and started to scamper up the side. Tess Scraped it from the side, dropped it and Gonzo nailed it on the ground.

By that time, we needed to head out and meet the rest of the club for lunch, we headed back to the cars, hawks following behind. I got the birds to pose for a few pictures - short flight to the fist from the trees, that kind of thing, when over the hill comes a coyote.

Running in front of him is a rabbit. The coyote stops, but the rabbit continues down the road and disappears in the brush about 15 feet away. I had Tess half way in the giant hood.

I look at James - he looks at me - What the heck. I toss tess up into a tree, and the chase is on.

Five minutes later, Tess folds in mid air, does a wing over and crashes, grabbing the marshrabbit by the rump.

Two in the bag, and more hunting after lunch. Can't wait.

Amazing - or Tess learns a new trick

My birds ROCK!

It was one of those days. I wasn't planning on hunting today, but bad weather is rolling in and I didn't know if we'd be able to hunt until the coming weekend.

Heck - I dashed home from work and loaded all my gear as quickly as I could and got to the field by 3:40. I ha to coach wrestling practice this afternoon, so I needed to be out of the field by 4:30. Not much time.

If we could get in a flight or two, maybe snag a squirrel, it would be time well spent.

I tossed Gonzo, then Tess into the trees. I closed the bed of the pick up - and the birds were already stalking something. I followed them into the trees - and saw the first squirrel hiding on the opposite side of the tree as the hawks. I ho - ho. The squirrel bolts, crosses, but is quickly snagged off a short branch.

A fun chase, but quick. We had time for doubles.

This particular spot is close to home and I have hunted it a lot this year. I hunt a series of ridges, and in between the ridges are the bottoms that are pocked with shallow pools of water. Last year, this area was all under water. With all the hunting I've done here this year ,I keep waiting for the day when I don't find any more squirrels.

Today wasn't it. Five more minutes we had another squirrel on the run. He crossed from ridge top to partially fallen tree, then crossed from branch tip to branch tip across a wide but shallow pool.

The hawks were hot on his trail.

The squirrel made it to the other side, spiraled down a tree and popped into a hole about the size of a jar lid in the side.

That was it, or so I thought.

Tess came barreling in at full tilt (this was cool) his talons stretched out at full length in front of him.

Both talons plunged into the hole, her wings stretched out, holding her in position.

What the....

Then Tess starts rowing her wings backward. No way.

Then Tess plucks the squirrel out of the hole, both feet clamped to its head, the hawk spirals to the ground.

That was awesome - but it gets weirder.

I was on the wrong side of the pond, though it was only a short walk around, but my vantage point was perfect. As Tess spiraled to the ground, she adjusted her wings and changed her trajectory to land along the edge of the water.

Hmmm...

I stumbled around the edge of the water, pushing the cane brake out of the way. Tess was in a clearing, holding the squirrels head under the water. Tess would squeeze. pump, pump. Let the squirrel up for a moment, then push its head back under.

She had the little fur ball completely under control, so I popped a picture.

I would have called it a fluke, if not for on the way back to the truck the exact same thing happened.

I was trying to get back to the truck in time to get home, changed, and then to practice, when the hawks checked off for an extended chase. it wasn't really that long, but in the end, Gonzo scraped the hawk off the side of the tree, dropped it to where Tess snatched it out of the air. Adjusted to the head, then coasted down tot he water, where she plunged the squirrels head under water.

I got to her as fast as I could, but the squirrel was already drowned when I got there.

We had 45 minutes of hunting. Nonstop.

It was amazing.

Late Season Squirrels

They're smarter.

After hitting them hard over the two week Christmas break, I gave the hawks a week to rest and heal. In the wild, they would never get time off, but they also wouldn't be specializing in hunting quarry as difficult as squirrels.

Their feet are nicked up and looking like the feet of true squirrel hawks. I tend to down play bites. I know they will happen, and it is always a risk. Most bites will be superficial nicks and cuts, but I am sure the hawk feels them.

The squirrels know their escape routes now. They don't feed far from holes. Some of these squirrels, I'm pretty sure, we have chased before as I have hunted this same spot multiple times this year.

These woods are mature maritime forest. A mix of pock marked hardwoods, interspersed with giant loblolly pine trees. What was once drifting sand dunes is now the loamy earth from which these trees spring.

The dunes are now steeply sloped hills and every chase is a work out. We seem to find the squirrels at the tops of the ridges, but when they bail from the tree tops, they head downward, like they are on a sled for freedom. They scamper up a tree at the bottom of the slope, then fly across the treetops to the top of the ridge again.

The same pattern happened over and over until the lowly falconer was left panting and heaving on the ground.

One squirrel blistered down the hill and disappeared at the bottom. I stumbled, slid, and fell down after him, holding onto trees for support.

When I got there, the hawks were waiting for me. Their eyes scolding me with my snails pace.

They both sat lower in the trees, not looking up. They were telling me squirrel had gone to ground.

I surveyed the area and a little stump of a branch was sticking off of the main trunk of a red bay tree. I could see that it was hollow, but not much bigger than my forearm and just at ground level.

I stomped over to it and peered into the top of the stump - and there was mister critter, staring back at me. He wasn't moving.

The hawks waited overhead - finally, I could be a useful part of the team. I shook the stump. I thumped the stump.

The squirrel stared stoically back at me. He knew the danger, he wasn't moving.

Finally, I kicked the stump, and heard it splinter. That was too much. The squirrel popped out the top like a jack in the box and both hawks plummeted, snagging it between them.

We ended up with two squirrels that day, each one was a challenge. This time of the year it gets harder and harder to catch each one. We'll see what the next few weeks bring.

Breaking 40

I was able to hunt twice over the last few days. The first time I took out my brother and his family. We went to a spot I hadn't hunted in a few years, but the last time I was there, there were big, plentiful squirrels.

To make things more interesting - It was just a day after the snow had stopped.

Unfortunately, the kids who were with us didn't have appropriate shoes for hunting in snow, but it was still fun. After tromping around without much action, we finally found some squirrels, and impressive chases ensues. The squirrels here knew how to use the pine trees, scrambling straight tot he top and them working their way across the forest using the limbs as their highway.

The hawks climbed, circling around the trees, branch to branch. Sometimes one hawk would rake off to another tree close by to gain more height.

At one point, right in front of me- about ten feet up - a wild passage red tail came screaming in, white chest blazing and talons up and ready. Tess was able to dodge the attack, and I ran in hollering. The red tail Broke off, and Gonzo started to give chase, but circled back.

We bagged two squirrels, bringing our total to 39. My brother was able to videotape, I hope he can get some good images of the chases.

I then got our again yesterday.

We went back to the airport. It is really just an airstrip that is bordered on two sides with small stands of trees.

The first chase, I was sure was a rabbit. The cover was thick and the hawks repeatedly crashed into the viney impenetrable, undergrowth.

They kept coming up blank, but I was sweaty and breathing heavy as I tried to keep up with them.

Finally, I saw the squirrel scamper up the pine, hiding behind the vines. I shook and yelled. The squirrel crossed to another trees, jumped to the ground, then got nailed as he tried to race to the next batch of cover.

Both hawks piled on. As soon as I got control, Gonzo let go, waiting for his tidbit.

Good bird.

We kept hunting, but didn't find anything. After close to an hour of not finding anything, the hawks started losing focus and flew over to the landing strip to harass the pigeons feeding there.

I called them back and we headed to a new stretch of woods we hadn't been in yet. Tall stands of pine with very little cover. We shook a nice, tightly packed nest. Squirrel popped out and ran to the tops of the trees.

Tess was able to snatch it in the tree tops, but it wasn't a good grab. Squirrel and hawk tussled in the pine boughs, talons pistoning out like a boxer. The squirrel must have gotten in a few good digs, as he was able to break free and dart to the next branch.

The chase took us all the way across the tree tops. Feint, move, dodge. The squirrel avoided every attack, always keeping the trunk or a branch between himself and the hawks.

Until the pressure got to be too much. He lept from the top of a pine. One bird folded, then the other, and all three dropped like missiles.

The squirrel bounced on the pine floor, Tess barreled in, but the squirrel was too fast. Tess Smacked the ground, bounced herself and flapped, hopping, flying and running across the ground after the fleeing squirrel.

Gonzo had anticipated the squirrel better, pulling off of her tuck early and angling off at full speed. He rammed into the fleeing squirrel, tumbling across the forest floor.

Tess bowled in, helping to secure the struggling squirrel.

Two more today - bringing the season total to 41.

Days Off

Since Wednesday the wind has whipped up and it is supposed to be blowing 25 - 35 for the rest of the week. I won't be able to fly the birds, but will be finding other ways to spend my time.

We built this bridge over the creek that runs along our property. We can finally easily cross to go exploring.


Seemed like as good a place as any to set up the trail cam. If we see deer - we may try to set up a stand and bag one before the end of the season.

First Real Bite

Three days, three hunts.

I've been out every morning this week for both eventful and uneventful flights.

The weather has been cooler, 30's and 40's. Perfect weather for hawking. as the days have been wearing on though, the winds have been picking up, so I need to be done by mid morning.

It works, as I have been home before the rest of the family really starts moving.

Day one ended with a triple.

Day two was interesting in that we didn't catch anything for a long time. The wind picked up earlier, and the spot where we were hunting was riddled with live oaks (read "thick cover") and lots of holes.

We had some good chases as the hawks waved in the tops of the trees, but the squirrels kept escaping into bowels of the trees.

Not much I can do there. Some people will try to flush squirrels out of holes using cigarette smoke, or smoke bombs. If I can't poke the squirrel out using a stick, or my hands - a squirrel in a hole has gotten away - fair chase and all that.

Cooler temps are great to teach the bird to follow, squirrels tend to hide in their nests more often and the hawker can pop them out with a tug on the vine.

This was the case yesterday. I pulled the vine that led up to the nest and out pops a squirrel. the hawks were off, chasing to my left. I turned, saw something flash past my field of vision - then it was gone and the chase was on.

Tree to tree, until the squirrel bailed from way high up. Tess was grabbing at it as it plummeted to the ground, the squirrel facing her, falling backward. It was like the scene where Gandalf fought the Bulrog.

She nails it on the ground. I make in, take control, but Gonzo never joins us. Usually he waits on the wings for his tid-bit, but this time he wasn't with us.

I look up, thirty feet from us, Gonzo is parachuting to the ground, his own squirrel dancing in his clutches.

That was our double for the day.

Today was the bite.

It started out normal enough. I went back to the spot where we got our four squirrels last month.

I waded into the trees. Both birds were heavier than I like, but not ridiculous. I wasn't long before I found a nice tight little nest, just above head height on a spindly pine.

I shook it..... hard. A big squirrel blasts out and makes for it. Jumps to the ground and sprints across open ground. He squirts through grass tunnels, and briers, and under logs, shaking the hawks with every jibe.

I bumble along behind. When I finally catch up, Tess is up high, and Gonzo is on the ground near a root bundle with some holes in it.

I knew the drill - I was the flushing ferret.

I started poking into holes with my stick.
I wear two gloves - my thick hawking glove and a lighter leather work glove. I soon realized the dirt was soft and loamy, so I began tearing it apart with my hands. Dirt and loam went everywhere.

There was the squirrel, plastered up under a root, pretending to be invisible. The hawks didn't see him. I reached in with my right hand and pulled the squirrel out. I called in Tess to come get him, but the squirrel squirmed and sank his teeth right through the leather and into my biggest knuckle.

I admit, I screamed. the little bugger wouldn't let go until I had choked him out and pulled him off.

I cleaned it up the best I could, and it was time to let the hawks catch a squirrel.

On the very next catch, I waded in again to secure the squirrel, and I got another bite, through the glove, on my pointer finger. Not nearly as bad, but I couldn't believe it happened again (plus a talon puncture through the pad of my thumb).

My right hand is a mess, but I have already surpassed my seasons' goal of 35.

8 squirrels in three days - 37 squirrels total for the season (so far). Time to reevaluate my goals.

Impressive

I was hunting yesterday, and all the while, as I wandered between chases, names for this post were popping into my head. By the end of the hunt, with one squirrel in the bag and me sweaty and breathing hard, I realized that all my possible titles boiled down to an appreciation of the chess match that was being played out in the tree tops.

I've managed to squeeze in a few hunts over the last couple of days since the wind has died down.

Unfortunately, the temperature has risen as well.

I had an hour after work on Thursday where I snuck out and hit a spot that was usually good for a squirrel or two last year. It was another habitat that has dried out this year and the squirrels were plentiful.

The more time I hunt, the more impressed I become with the quarry. This particular spot is dotted with giant, vine encrusted, pine trees. The squirrels know how to use these well.

At the sight of the bumbling, ground predator, the squirrels run for the trees. Then at the sight of the hawks they spiral straight to the top. Once there, they freeze, grasping at the branches as the wind blows them.

An inexperienced hawk will lose a squirrel once it is over their head. They just won't look up.

My bird know better and start to ladder, branch to branch, up the tree. Often they will climb in different directions, or one will take a better vantage point in a nearby tree and watch for movement as the other bird flushes.

I am no help at this point.

The climb until they engage the squirrel in the treetops where he can either fight, or flee.

One squirrel, at this point, decided to flee. He was in a pine that grew so close to another they were almost touching, There was maybe a hand-space between the two.

The squirrel came spiraling down the trunk with the hawk diving at him from all sides. He evaded by changing sides of the tree, then, in a dizzying array of acrobatic skill, he changed it up.

Instead of a simple spiral, he made figure eights. Around one trunks, then circling through and going around the other trunk. It was amazing. I was on the ground, and this is where the squirrel made its mistake. He bailed to the ground and made a dash across the forest floor for a nearby brush pile.

He never made it.

In another chase, the squirrel spiraled up the tree to a nest forty feet up in the tip top of a pine.

Nothing I could do from the ground. I never saw the squirrel. The hawks must have. taking turns, one would sit in a nearby tree and watch for movements while the other scratched at the nest.

After a bit, I sat down. But they kept at it. I was ready to give it up - it had been ten minutes that they had been working on this nest.

My sock had migrated in my boot all the way down to my arch, so I hitched up my chaps, and took off my boot to adjust the sock, and the squirrel squirts out. The chase is on.

We ended up losing that squirrel in the end - but perseverance of the birds was amazing.

Holes, briers, brambles and root bundles. Squirrels use them all. They know the location of every one, and they can gauge their distances to them. The number of escape routes they use is remarkable.

The more I hunt, the more I respect the quarry. The more I respect the birds. The more I feel sorry for the land-walker (me).

Three hunts, five squirrels.

Season total so far - 25

Vengence and more

My house backs up to a little patch of woods.

Around my yard there are different critters in cages; the rabbit hutch, chicken coop, pigeon loft.
Additionally, I have three small dogs.

Apollo, the smallest, weighs in at a mere 5 pounds. Tess is semi dog aggressive. I don't think that she would think twice about grabbing Apollo.

Needless to say, I don't often hunt around my house.

The squirrels run rampant. They love the live oaks, and the pine nuts. They feast on the hickory nuts and scramble around the hawk cages with impunity.

In North Carolina, most of the falconers I know don't build a traditional mew, they go for the weathering area, jump box set up. My hawk houses are constructed in this way. The ceilings and walls are made of mesh. The hawks can see everything that goes on around them.

Squirrels like to taunt them.

They scamper around their weathering areas. They feast on nuts perched above the ceilings of their cages. They toss acorn husks at them.

I feel bad for the hawks.

Today we sought revenge. I had all of my gear at school, but I forgot my boots again. I had to run home to get them, when I decided that I would just hunt in the back yard. I shut all the animals up, covered the rabbits, and let loose the birds of war!

It didn't take long. the backyard squirrels had built up a disdain for the ineffective hawks, so it was almost like they didn't even realize they were supposed to run.

he,he,he.

Gonzo took the first one, scraping off a branch, tussling on the way down, before settling into a head grip and landing. Tess piled in, wanted her piece.

Transfer, move on to the next. At one point my neighbor was watching as both birds landed on the eves of his roof, while he was stringing lights from his second floor deck, then we wandered deeper into the woods.

The second squirrel was quick. The temperature has finally dropped into the forties - perfect for hawking. The squirrels have started to hide in their nests.

The hawks were both close and in position. I yanked the vine that snaked up into a nice looking nest. A buck squirrel popped out of the top of the nest. Instead of running the rest of the way up the tree, he bailed. He set his arms and legs like a sail, stretched out his tail, and tried to fly.

Tess folded up, fell off the branch, and dropped like a stone. The squirrel hit the ground running. Tess set his wings, flapped hard, and tumbled over the squirrel, coming out on top.

There were more squirrels out there, but two was a nice start. Vengeance was mine!

Almost more important though...

Somewhere between Squirrel #1 and #2, the hawks engaged in a ground chase.

I of course assumed it was a squirrel, hiding in the brush, but first Tess dove, then Gonzo.

A flash of white.

then the distinctive squeal of a rabbit, caught.

I rushed up to see both Tess and Gonzo riding the bronco ride of a freshly caught cotton tail.

Nice bonus.