Some hawks seem to have a natural aptitude for feeding themselves. They will do so at hack, before their sisters and brothers have even chased anything except in fun; and when left out for a night they may be seen in the early morning careering about after their favourite quarry, or some other. When tidings are brought in as to their whereabouts, the message is either that she was "see'd on a bird," or "very near got 'im," or at least was "chasin' of 'em like one o'clock." Such hawks are easier to track, no doubt, than the dull ones which sit still by the hour together; but on the other hand, more activity is required to come up with them and disabuse them of the idea that their rôle is now merely that of a wild bird. Liberty often acts as a wonderful stimulant to a trained hawk's energies. The same falcon which has persistently refused rooks, and can seldom score off a partridge, will perhaps after twenty-four hours' fasting in the tree-tops bowl over with alacrity whichever of these quarries first offers her a chance, and then, having been reduced again into bondage, relapse into the same indifference, and refuse to be induced by any amount either of feeding up or starving to fly a yard after one or the other. It is extraordinary what feats a bad hawk can be made to do by the schooling of the hard mistress Necessity. There was once a lame merlin which had injured her wing badly against a wire, and could only just fly at all, and that with a clumsy wobbling action. She was turned out loose in a place where some rebellious hobbies were being hacked, on the chance of her bringing them down to participate in her meals; but finding one day that her rations were not forthcoming until much later than usual, she wandered off in search of what she could pick up for herself, and was caught by a lad about three miles away from where she had started, on a small bird which she had actually killed single-handed!