The wind blasted my face as I pulled on Aquila's jesses. He jumped onto my fist from the box with all the gusto I expected, spreading his wings in the wind. Unclipping his jesses I let him take off into the wind and straight up to a nearby tree. "Bad position hawk." I muttered under my breath. Mike was quick with a reply. "It'll be alright if we flush one right around here. He gestured to a nearby part of the field, within easy striking distance from the hawk. I just got done thinking that I sure hope there are more here than there were about 200 yards away, when one busted right out and away from me. HO HO! I shouted, but it was unnecessary. The hawk had seen it and leapt from his perch out into the air. Beating hard, he narrowed the gap. I turned my attention to the rabbit, now running down an open path, probably used to access the field by four wheeler. This would prove to be a fatal error. Suddenly the hawk streaked into view, closing fast on the rabbit's tail. In just a moment they rounded a clump of grass -nearly at the same moment. I listened and strained, looking and waiting. A second or so later I heard a crunch, and squeal. "That was too easy!" I laughed at Mike, as we rushed up the trail to the mantling bird. Upon watching us approach, he tried to pull his kill into some tall weeds, but I was on him too quick. I gave him some tidbits, and let Mike work on the kill. Shoving the remains into by bag, we continued on. Turning toward a more open patch of field, we pressed on. But before I got a chance to cast the hawk into a tree, a rabbit jumped out right in front of us. Hawk looked at it for a moment, but then it was gone into some rocks and that was the last I saw of it. I cast him up and we ventured into the piles of old concrete and stone. I was to the left of the trail and kill site, Mike was with me, and Mikey, his son and a gabboon of the highest order, was on the other side of the trail, also moving about in rock piles. "There goes one," he mentioned calmly. I looked and sure enough, a gigantic rabbit was creeping through the weeds toward the trail. The hawk saw him too and dove off his perch. As it broke cover, the rabbit picked up the pace in an amazing burst of speed that amazed even Mike. But the hawk was close on his tail, chasing him across the path and into the mounds near us. I watched the hawk whip past the entrance (I had moved off the rocks by now) to the rocks and into some heavy goldenrod. I strained my ears. Nothing. Soon he jumped back up onto the rocks to scope out his quarry. I picked him up and threw him again into the wind. He regained his perch quickly and followed us to the other side of the field as we beat. Finally he came to rest in the top of a tall cherry tree. We swung around to his right and approached a thicket, a tangle of thorns and thicker limbs of some long dead willow. Again, Mikey said, "There goes one." Again the hawk leapt from his tree and down toward the wayward rabbit. I looked but could tell by the sound of the bells that there was no connection. Soon he was back up, into a different tree, but still ready to hunt. HO HO HO! Moments later another took flight in front of my boots, but as it did a passing truck sounded off. WHUM WHUM WHUM WHUM WHUM, in a rhythm faster than most rock songs. The driver had decided to brake, not using the traditional method, but rather by downshifting. As hawk looked at the truck, the rabbit slipped past and to safety. �Don�t worry,� I said optimistically, �we�ll bump another one soon.� Sure enough, Mikey said for the last time that day, �There goes one.� I looked up at the hawk, and he at the rabbit. Dropping straight down from the limb he alight perfectly onto the rabbit, just as another truck sounded off. I heard the screech, but just for a second, not even a complete squeal. I made in as quick as I could, they�re not called thickets for nothing after all! Hawk was nearly under a large pile of logs, but I was able to get him back out with minimal stress. The day waxed short, and I was worried about being late for work and the homework I�d neglected, so I decided not to be greedy. Though I could have taken another that day, I was worried about the hawk becoming possessive. I fed him up and we exited. Finding another dead rabbit near the road. Miraculously, Aquila was not drawn to it. I left the field confident in my bird, and with a full game pouch, who can ask for more?
*as usual, all quotes are approximations*
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