I entered the field last. Dave and Ted were already sliding their way down the hill towards where I parked. "Ho There!" I yelled, and picked up the pace. As a response, they beckoned me upward to their position. As I walked, we continued to speak. There were short introductions all around, as I had never met Ted, nor his 28 oz Tiercel Harris Hawk who swooped by to give his greeting too. I was surprised to see how small he truly was, and even more surprised to see that he had been with Ted for eight seasons now. Snapping a small limb for a tally-ho stick, I proceeded down the hill in line with the other two falconers. Not ten feet in, there came that pulse raising call, "HO HO HO!," screamed Dave as a rabbit bolted down the hillside in front of me. 'Glang,' sang the old pair of Pakistani bells telling us that Fred the hawk was now after the bunny. Just a few wing beats were all that were needed to bring the hawk up to the rabbit's position. Just a few more slowed !
his speed and he set down. All movement stopped... No noise, no nothing. I looked at Ted, Ted at Dave, and Dave at the bird. Nothing happened. No movement from the bird, no movement from any of us. Finally Dave broke the silence. "He might've got it," he said with an optimistic grin. I strained to see the hawk, but my angle made seeing the ground over the dead goldenrod rather difficult. "I can't see, but he set down awfully light to have caught it." "Aah, you might be surprised," Ted retorted. He ran down the hillside to retrieve the hawk and shouted back excitedly as he approached, "He got it!" The slip was apparently that amazing. The rabbit never yelled, the hawk wasn't mantling, everything seemed so perfect. Unfortunately, that was all that the Harris Hawk was able to take (though he did try for some casual passersby, and a passing cat). After the kill was taken care of, we decided that this field was probably done for the day and decided to head over to another. The birds were loaded into their respective boxes and the caravan took off for greener pastures. Across a road and into the next industrial court we found the field that would bring my hawk glory. I opened the box and the bird hopped to my glove. "You ready Aq?" I asked, not really expecting a reply. His piercing gray and yellow eyes stared back and then up toward the trees. "I'm going to assume that means yes." The jesses unclipped easy, and the hawk was up. We beat up one side of the field and around the back before heading up toward the hawk's tree, setting in the middle of the field. It was then that I got a full understanding of the term "Industrial Park Rabbit." One busted out in front of me, running in a gentle curve, avoiding any semblance of cover. I was so focused on the rabbit, I barely heard my bells until the hawk went down. At first I thought that the rabbit had escaped, it tried a very good trick, slow down until the hawk is right overhead, then open the throttle wide. It nearly worked, but the hawk was able to throttle up just as fast. He held tight, just barely ensnaring the hind leg. From then it was all over. "WAAAA" cried the rabbit as Aq whipped it around for a head shot. By the time I got there the two were grappling about for control. The hawk ended up on his back with the rabbit on top. No longer screaming, the rabbit was the one out for the kill. Aquila needed my help to dispatch with the poor bunny. I did it, but for some reason this wasn't enough. "EEEE," "EEEE," he squealed. He has never screamed before, but I found what prompted such strange behavior fast enough. I gave him some tidbits, and he couldn't eat them fast enough. I pulled the head off the kill. He ate that, I gave him a front leg from a road kill. He ate that. I gave him some internal organs. He ate them. That made him stop yelling. I was satisfied, the hawk was satisfied, and our part in the hunt was over. We proceeded to fly Dave's bird, and the Harris again, but the best part of this tale has already been told.
*Note* All quotes are approximations, and my apologies to anyone, Hawk, Rabbit, Dave, or Ted who feels misrepresented. Especially the Hawk and Rabbit, because Lord knows that the sounds they make are impossible to put onto paper.
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