I left in the beaten up old van at about 9:00. Mike showed up on time, and we were to the field by 9:30. It was an expansive dumping ground. About 40 acres of pure Lespodisa and brome grass. On one side was Highway K, and the other was bordered by a subdivision; and more precisely, yard waste -brush piles. We entered in the middle of the third side, open to the road. I kept Aquila on the fist and began to beat around the bush, er... that is to beat around the clumps of grass and small bushes. Fairly quickly one was up, and the hawk shortly thereafter followed. It was a magnificent tail chase, culminating in a wingover, but no deal. Making in, I tossed the hawk into the wind. It was mostly calm, but what gusts there were presented a great obstacle. He soared for a few moments, then used the wind to move over to the right, toward the houses. Mike stayed in the mounds of refuse, making toward a pile of wolmanized lumber and sticks. As I worked the cover, he stepped on the pile, and probed it with his stick. Soon, another rabbit busted out into the open, and again the hawk powered toward it. He nearly was on top of it when the cottontail entered a great patch of Lespodisa and evaded his attack. Luckily, the hawk did not go down, and quickly returned to the trees. I rushed to the trail the rabbit had taken through the dense cover and Mike took the edge closer to the hawk. We were unable to reflush that one, but several more were yet to come. We worked through the Lespodisa and swung around toward the hawk. The wind had picked up, and at this angle, he would be in the best position should one flush, the wind would be at his back. Mike became sidetracked when he realized that is cousin lived in the house just across the way. He left for a while, I worked the yard waste and brush piles that bordered the right edge of the field. Along the edge I made nearly five flushes, one per pile. The hawk slipped at four of those (one was out of sight range, another benevolent tree locomted to hide the bunny.) And pulled fur from all but one of those. All the flights were close, but the bunnies had the advantage. They used the wind to ward off wingovers and crashes. I was beginning to become frustrated. The hawk was still preforming, and was lowered in weight from even my last adventure. He was putting in outstanding flights, and should be commended on his style, but the rabbits had the advantage. We worked back along the opposite edge, opposite of the edge we entered from, which bordered a woodlot with a stream. No rabbits. We worked around to the side bordering the highway, with the hawk alighting high atop power poles (on the crossbars, or far out on the wire. -is that dangerous?) We made several flushes and several astounding near misses. He came in and stooped into brome grass, back up and across the field. We crossed the rise and were after the rabbits again. This pattern played out several times with fewer and fewer flushes each time. At one point the wind was just right, and he flew out after one, missing again, but I was able to see where it stopped. As we neared the spot, Aquila powered out toward us, waiting on once he reached us. I flushed one, and Mike another. He went down after Mike's but missed. I was surprised at his falcon like tendancies. Both in waiting on, and in not taking much game. Finally on the way back, we spied an as yet unhit section of field. Holding Aquila on the fist I kicked the brushpile. From the opposite end popped a rabbit. Another tail chase, another astounding miss. He never really hit the ground, just lost the rabbit in the reeds. It was near the entrance of a stream/drainage ditch. Hawk pitched up and landed about 15 feet atop a light on a Shell parking lot. As I approached the reeds he jumped again into flight and headed nearly straight down, into those same reeds. No beans, the rabbit ran out the others side and up the hill. He took off on his own, those jump ups are comming into their own, flying back to the houses. We beat the reeds, flushing two more, for two more misses, before calling this field exhausted. Packing up, we degectedly set out for the next lucrative field.
Back at the same MoDOT concrete testing facility we took at last week, (Jason's Hawking Exploits Episode 5:The Rabbits Strike Back) I cast him up into a tree. There were no quick flushes here. We beat for nearly a half an hour before finally getting something up. I watched as he dropped from the tree and after it. Beating furiously he wheeled over in a perfect wingover, hitting hard. Nothing, another flash of white sent my spirits reeling. I picked him up and could see that his spirits were drooping as well. He only took a 10 foot perch and watched us beat. Mike crested the ridge and I worked along a stream in back of the facility. I jumped another three, and he put in good flights, in any other conditions he would have killed, but the wind and the rabbits conspired to keep him from anything but pulling fur. We had only a fraction of the slips we enjoyed last week, amounting to only 6 or 7. Passing near the site of our first kill, we looked intently for any sine or any indication that a rabbit was present. All we found was the hawking stick I left last week. Turning right into a section that was much more open we busted another two, but both were missed, the last nearly ignored. I could see Aquila going into Mouser mode. He sat atop his perch ignoring us, lookig down for mice. We beat and flushed one, which had time to break cover, cross a road and go into 8ft tall cover before being in any real danger. This 8 foot cover was all some relation of goldenrod, and cockleburrs. We finally decided that because that was the core region of the warren, it was worth the flower dust and sticklies, we would hit it. Passing along we were delighted to see the hawk move to the top of an 80 foot pole, in perfect position for one of his killer stoops. He got the chance, when one jumped just in front of me. It took him several seconds to reach the ground, even at terminal RT velocity. He crashed, but without pulling his wings in. The weeds grabbed him and he only pulled fur. Again dejected he left for another perch, across the road, about 6 feet up. He would never take from there, but we had to get him to move and chase rabbits, so naturally we busted some for him. He did not give chase, but at least changed positons. We swung around and headed back along the other edge toward him. "WEE WEE WEE", shouted Mike as a large buck cottontail jumped into about three feet of thick cover. In an instant Aquila was off in another killer stoop. He hit the brush, and I've got to say that a rabbit's squeal never sounded better than just then. I head his bells and it sounded like he missed, despite what my ears said. As I walked up to make in another rabbit ran out of the same cover. "He missed it, I just reflushed the rabbit," I lamented to Mike, walking nearby. "What, you mean the one that went in there?" He gesutred in the opposite direction of my flush. "No, I guess it was another." I made in to get the hawk back up, when to my surprise, when I found him, his crest up, wings spread, and a hugh buck rabbit had his rear legs firmly planted in Aquila's chest. It was nearly strong enough to break his grip and mine, but Aq held fast. I broke its neck and gave the hawk his treats. Mike cleaned the prey, and I tended to the hawk, helping him find the broken portion so he could eat the head. I know when to quit and this was just the time. He ate a gigantic crop, and we left, satisfied.
*all quotes are approximations*
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