An unintended mile post

 

Every one came over to the house this morning for our Rabbit hunt. We went into the field behind the hack tower and began our drive. Yogi took a perch on the fence line while Puddy rode with Tami. We had not gone very far, and a Jack broke cover in the fence and choose to run across the open field towards the house. Yogi had landed almost on a post almost right on top of him, so when he made his run for it, she was right there. I thought well that one is a waste! I didn't take in to account Yogi's state of mind. She hasn't caught anything for at least a week. She has helped, but has not been the initial aggressor. I was yelling and rooting her on for all I was worth, but even so I could not believe that she was right on the Jacks butt and closing. (I have paced a Jack at 45 MPH) The Jack tried to turn inside her, but she was too close and too determined. She reached out a long leg and had him. They were jumping and flopping. Puddy by that time had caught up and slammed into his head.

I took the opportunity to take a picture, that was not in a bush.

I gave each a chunk of Jack front leg as a reward for their catch. Each went off a bit to eat their food, and I bagged the rabbit.

As you can see, there was nothing for the rabbit to hide in, but the open field chases are the hardest of all pursuits.

We went back into the field and continued on our way. We had not covered much ground when Yogi again took off after a Rabbit. Puddy was a bit slow on the uptake. Yogi made a feint at the rabbit, but it dodged her. She turned around as Puddy also made a feint at the rabbit. Yogi had gotten up a bit and did a wingover from about 10 feet and the scream of the rabbit told us that she had scored again.

 When we got there I was surprised to see that Puddy was off to the side watching. The reason became quite clear, as Yogi had grabbed the rabbit by the head.

I gave Yogi a chunk of front leg, and and number two was in the bag, and we were still withing 200 yards of the fence around the house.

I decided that I wanted for Puddy to catch one, so we decided to continue. We really had just started,  and George was really getting into it.

We continued on for a bit and Yogi decided to go off hunting on her own. I tried to get her to come to the perch, but she wanted me to follow her, and it just doesn't work that way. We left her  and soon Puddy took off after a close Jack and grabbed him in the butt. Unfortunately her pardner was goofing off a hundred yards back and she got kicked off. She was a bit grumpy about that. We continued on, and Yogi decided to shadow us. I was just explaining to George that Harris' were the only Hawk that I was aware of that could see a sitting rabbit, when Puddy flashed off my perch and slammed into the ground not more than 15 feet in front of us. I was quite surprised to see a Jack come bolting out of the dust cloud and beat feet out of the area. Yogi tried, but had been too much out of position. Yogi was still trying to be independent, and we jumped another Jack, and again Puddy grabbed one in the butt after a heroic effort, but her hold was too tenuous to keep him. Yogi had had enough, and rejoined us as we began our circle back towards the house.

We topped over the hill leaving Tara, Karen, Grace and Isabel pestering a hapless Bull Snake. Yogi could not resist a 200 yard slip at a fleeing rabbit. It of course was unsuccessful. We finally caught up with her, and she regained her perch. As we started up a small rise, a Jack busted in front of us, and Puddy gave chase. She made a shot at the rabbit and missed, Yogi did not. This one didn't have a hawk on its head for a short period of time, so Puddy filled the position.

  I managed to kill the Jack, and Yogi accepted her chunk of meat and retired to the nearest bush to eat it.

I have to admit, I was quite surprised that Yogi had caught three Jacks in one outing and was doing it with a fairly substantial chunk of meat in her crop. I had never had a hawk that I caught three head of game with in the same day, so when I held up the trophy tail for the picture, I was pretty much in awe of this hawk.

Puddy however was getting frustrated and did not want to give the Jack up. She was doing her best to ignore the chunk of rabbit that I was offering, so I picked her up with the whole thing and again gave her the meat. She couldn't hold both, so I was able to  put her on the ground and go clean the rabbit.

Karen needed to go get the mail, so she headed off for the house, and the rest of the field was anxious to visit an old turn of the century homestead down by the creek. We were close so we headed that way.

Somehow I forgot to take any pictures, but the shack was a "Soddy". I was more interested in seeing if I could find some of the Bunnies that had to live there. We soon found one and Puddy really slammed into the Greasewood after him, but missed. We were a bit behind time, since we had been in the field for about three hours at that time, so we headed home.

I didn't want to carry the birds on the fist, so we were still technically hunting, and they were riding on their perches. The road curved around a small rise with a bit of rubble on the top, and without warning, Yogi again took off the perch after a close flushing Jack, and slammed into his head before he had covered more than 20 feet. Puddy again honored the kill, and stayed back. We didn't take a picture of the forth one for what ever reason. I gave Yogi another chunk of meat and gave the Jack to George for his own consumption later.

I decided that enough was enough and we fed the girls the rest of their meal, and made our way home.

Every one went home, and I started chunking up Jacks for the girls winter molt food. Even with giving an entire rabbit away, taking two meals worth off of one of the rabbits, I ended up with 14 meals off the remainder, and enough parts and pieces for tidbits and rewards for the next hunting day.

After Karen came back and I finished my food chores, we drove over to the ranch to fly Tara's bird Sheila.

There are a lot of Sparrows around the house so we began our quest. Sheila has not yet caught her first head of wild game, and after her last outing were quite hopeful.

The wind was whipping by this time, and while it posed no problem for her, it did make her want to fly into the wind and stay high either in the trees on the barn. The resident tiercel Kestrel seems to be a bit cranky about sharing hunting areas with her and has been a problem for us. He slammed her into the barn, bruising her leg the last time, and was doing his best to do so again.

At first she wasn't showing much in the way of interest in hunting, but soon decided to get into the game. We went to the Greasewood patch below the barn and managed to pin some of the numerous Sparrows in there. She took a stand on the Hay stack out of the wind, and Tami, George and I began pushing some Sparrows at her. She gave chase to one and just barely missed catching him before he took refuge in a bush. She returned to the fence line, and Tami pushed it out, and again she was hot on his tail, putting him into another bush. This time she gave chase on foot. He managed to elude her and since she had tried so hard, and we were out of Sparrows in the Greasewood, I decided that a bag would be in order.

Tara put her on one of the fence posts and I rustled in the bushes and somehow a bagged Sparrow made a break for it. She was after it with a passion. The Sparrow was doing its best out across the open pasture and she was right on its butt. She made a grab for it, but missed. She recovered and grabbed it after another 10 yards. All the time that little rascal of a wild tiercel was doing his best to interfere. Tara and George went to run interference. Before they could get there the scamp tagged her on the ground, and she picked up the Sparrow and made a break for the fence. She landed on one of the fence posts, while the wild one was making repeated shots at her. She flew again and closer to me and the Greasewood patch. She landed on a post just at the edge of the field, and the little bastard flew down and knocked her off the post. She got up and flew past me to the middle of the Greasewood and ran into the bush with her prise.

 Tara picked her up from the bush and gave her a safe spot to eat her catch.

 We of course felt compelled to celebrate our adventures with a small libation.

I am quite pleased with the way that Tara has brought this little bird along. She handles well, and it is only a matter of time before she is catching wild game. The zeal with which both she and George pursue falconry is very satisfying. Both are going to be good falconers.

Karen and I dragged our tired butts home and put them in the hot tub where we could sooth some of the aches and pains away.