I have kept dogs all my life and have never been without at least one. But never in all those years have I ever had a dog that was so easy to live with as my old Brittany. He was not the most handsome dog in the world, but when he was younger he found game for the hawks and falcons. If you have read my articles on my ten years with my female sparrow-hawk you might have noticed that he was a huge part of that hunting team. Very few of the adventures we had hawking pheasants with the sparrow-hawk would have been possible without him. My male and female Harris hawks would not have put so many rabbits in the pot if it wasn’t for the four-legged one.

But time moves steadily on. I have a young Brittany bitch now that I bred. She is full of beans and mischief and my hopes for our future is that she turns out to be half as useful as the old dog was.

Tom.

 I lost my good female Harris Hawk “Martha” the other evening. It was five o’clock and the rabbits were just starting to pop their little heads out into the evening sunshine to feed. Just like I had done a hundred times before, I unloaded herself from the jeep, quietly closed over the door and snuck over the brow of a certain little hill to let her see the rabbits feeding below. The hill dropped steeply down to a laneway and there was a thick old hawthorn hedge bordering the grassy field where rabbits were plentiful. As soon as we peered over the hill a half-grown bunny high-tailed in across the lane toward cover and off she went in pursuit.

It was a typical downward glide flight. A couple of strong flaps to get herself in motion, then she set her wings and glided steadily on a direct course for her target. Not the most exciting of flights but it can be very effective, as from the rabbit’s point of view there is very little moving to catch its eye, and then it’s nearly too late as the hawk is upon it and the rabbit must act extremely fast if it wants to survive, and this is exactly what happened in this case. The rabbit ran, she tried her best, but she missed and I saw her standing on the ditch by the lane under a large sycamore tree.

And this is where things went wrong.

Usually when she misses a rabbit, she would rouse, or shake her feathers back into place, and fly back up the hill to me. It is a steep hill as I mentioned and she has to stop at least once on the way back as there is usually a downdraught that hinders her. As all the rabbits in view had already scarpered for cover, I decided to drive down, pick her up and continue along the lane in the hope of a more successful flight.

But when I turned the jeep and drove down to meet her, she was gone.

She would usually fly back in the jeep window to me, but as there was no sign of her, I stepped out and turned off the engine so I could hear her bell.

Nothing.

I walked along the ditch, whistling as I went.

Nothing.

I found a gap and climbed over the barbed wire fence and checked the other side of the hedge.

Again, nothing.

Strange.

I stood and listened for the tinkle of a bell, knowing she could not be too far away.

Nothing.

Very strange.

I walked the length of the ditch and up along the hill where she had often caught rabbits before. The grass was long now and could easily hide a hawk but there was still no bell to be heard. The nearest ditch was a hundred yards away on the other side of the field so I took out my lure and swung to call her back.

Absolutely nothing.

Then I heard crows. Mostly rooks which sounded upset at something and then I heard the familiar raucous calls of both hooded crows and magpies joining in. It has always been my theory that when these crows gang up together it is something well worth investigating. But the trouble here was that they were mobbing something hundreds of yards away on the other side of an eight foot high perimeter fence nicely topped off with a double row of barbed wire. And on the other side of this fence was a stud farm, where beautiful Arabian horses gambolled and grazed in the evening sunshine. As I mentioned earlier, Martha is my “good” Harris Hawk, probably the best I have ever flown, but there is one thing that she absolutely loathes, and that is horses of any kind.

I remember once she landed on a tree in a ditch and right below her on the other side, unseen by me, was a donkey that suddenly brayed its heart out and frightened Martha enough that she took off and would not return to me for half an hour. 

So there I was peering through tiny gaps in the perimeter fence and not being able to see a thing, so I brought the jeep around, climbed up of top of it and swung the lure.

Again nothing.

There was only one thing I could do and that was to drive the two miles around and find the closest point on the road to where I thought she was, or at least to where the crows were busy noisily mobbing something.

 So I took note of the landscape, particularly the electric pylons which lucky enough gave me a good landmark to work with, and hurried around to the place in question where they crossed the road on the other side of the farm, and guess what I found?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing!

Even the crows had stopped their chattering and had moved on. By this stage I was starting to worry and went over everything in my head that could have gone wrong.

I had seen her miss the rabbit, had not seen her fly but I had been turning the jeep and driving down to meet her.

Had she taken off again from the ground, flown the two hundred yards up and over the high fence, across the field to where I heard the crows?

Had she time to?

Maybe she had but it was so unlike her that I thought it strange.

I phoned a friend that lived nearby and he came to give me a hand. Now if you have ever looked for a hawk by yourself, with darkness looming and the thought that if she has caught another rabbit and is still on the ground when the foxes are hunting during the night, you know that another pair of eyes and ears and a fresh outlook can be only a good thing.

But it’s not just that. It is having company to stop despair from setting in. The thoughts of losing her were bad enough without thinking about a fox finding her in the darkness, still on her rabbit and chomping both her and the rabbit remains.

So with darkness fast approaching and having searched for five hours, I finally decided to call it a day. It was a beautiful evening; even my own personal black cloud over me could not hide that fact. There was still no breeze as I had a final look along the lane, under the sycamore tree where I had last seen her. She knew the area this side of the perimeter fence well and as I approached the tree for the last time, I had a mental image of her sitting there waiting for me, with a full crop of freshly eaten rabbit and one foot raised in contentment.

But it was not to be.

I drove home with that black cloud hovering over me, thinking everything through yet again, wondering if I had overlooked the obvious and hoping that suddenly it would all come clear to me what exactly had gone wrong and where I would find her. I thought too about the amount of hours and days, months and years I had spent training and flying her; of simple misses and the spectacular catches she had made.

I have other hawks; I even have other Harris hawks, but none like her, not one I would miss half as much as I was going to miss her.

I barely slept that night and after only a couple of hours of unsettled sleep I set off again to meet the dawn and resume the search. I knew I was in for a soaking as the dew was heavy on the grass and the sun had not risen enough yet to burn it off. I knew also that I would trudge the same paths and search the same places as I had the evening before and I also knew that with every step over the same ground, despair would engulf me more and more. The longer she was out and the longer I had no clue where she was, the deeper and blacker my mood would become. The more time elapsed giving her time to put more distance between us, the higher the chances were that I would never see her again.

I drove to the top of the hill where I had flown her from, looked out over the misty early morning landscape and said to myself “F**k, she could be anywhere!”

But I had to continue searching regardless.

The obvious place to start was where I had last seen her. So with the sun rising and my mood sinking I drove down the hill and along the lane.

Before I even parked up I could see she was in the sycamore tree; a black silhouette in the morning sun. Oh happy days!

I am not a jumpy around kind of guy; never one to shout or scream with joy, throw fists into the air and make up victory dances on the spot. But if I was, believe me that’s where the dances of jubilation would have taken place; in a back lane at dawn with a well fed hawk as an audience.

I called her down, and gave her some food as a treat, though she could barely fit in another bite. Even after her thirteen hours of feeding since I had last set eyes on her, she couldn’t fit in another thing and had a crop of food on her which gave her chest a look that the girls of the Hefner mansions would be proud to bear. Her crop was full to absolute capacity.

That she had caught a rabbit was obvious. But had she caught it immediately after I had seen her miss one?

Had she flown up the sycamore tree and dived on one below, which is what I think happened. But why had I not heard the bell in the ensuing scuffle?

Had she spotted a rabbit in the ditch below that was already dead maybe? 

Had she jumped up the branches of the tree in the dark to be found the next morning or had she come back from somewhere, looking for me with a full crop? I doubted it, but what were the crows mobbing with such enthusiasm a minute after I lost her?

Anyway I have her back now and I will never know. I can only give an educated guess.

If I had not made such an effort I might never have seen her again.

Maybe it’s what falconry is all about, or anything else we put our time into; when things go good, life is brilliant, but when things go wrong, it really does feel like the end of the world.

Another day in the life of an Irish falconer!

Tommy Byrne.

If everyone loved the same things, if everyone agreed on everything and thought the same the world would be a less colourful and interesting place, so this surely can only be a good thing.

Since the first Harris Hawks were introduced into the falconry circle just a few decades ago this species really has taken the world by storm, shouldering aside the Goshawk and the American Redtail to make a large space for itself in both Irish and world falconry. It is by a long stretch the most commonly flown raptor today. People that could not otherwise have the time to put into a daily hawking regime can now have a bird that can fit into their lives; with an hour spare here and there and a morning out at the weekend People that do not have the time to train and manage the old traditionals like Goshawks and Merlins can now classify themselves as falconers and enjoy their time doing it.

The old adage that if you don’t have the time you should not have the hawk, still holds true and always will, but what of these Harris Hawks that are not flown every day like the books tell us they should be?

I personally would be in favour of people flying their birds when they can. Every falconer knows that you get back from your bird what you put into it. Of course if the bird spends ninety per cent of its life tethered to a bow perch with nothing more to look at than a brick wall, this to me is wrong. If the same bird sits free in an aviary until it is weathered and bathed on the lawn, with visual stimulation such as a dog or even the crazy neighbours to keep an eye on, this is a major improvement. Harris Hawks are intelligent and need mental stimulation even more so than most raptors, because in the wild they live in family groups and getting constant stimulation from the other group members is very important.

Harris Hawks do have a reputation for being noisy. There are two reasons for this and both stem from the fact that they live in groups or packs. Firstly, in the wild they are constantly calling back and forth to each other to hold the pack together, and holding the pack together is important because as a group they work together and if there is game to be caught the chances of catching that prey is multiplied by being a member of such a group. Each member of the pack has a role to play, some entering cover to flush the prey while others wait on above to do the actual catching. Secondly, because the young birds live in a group they are able to mentally mature slower than solitary hunters such as Redtails and Goshawks. They stay with the pack, learning skills and techniques from the older wiser birds and if they don’t make a kill it’s not the end of the world for them as they can still feed from the kills the pack makes. This slow maturity in the hands of a novice falconer; if he keeps his mentally immature Harris Hawk hungry for too long, can and in most cases will, lead to him having a screamer on his hands. And unless you have experienced this first-hand, take my advice and try to avoid it at all costs.

As I said earlier the more time you spend with your hawk the better she will be. On my key-ring is the ring from my old male Harris Hawk that I had for over a decade. He came to me after his first owner could stand his incessant squawking no longer. He came to me and immediately shut up as we hunted nearly every day and lamped pigeons most evenings in the nearby trees when winter kicked in. It is because of this bird that my kids lick their lips every time pigeon is on the menu.  

There are bad Harris Hawks about. Being so easy to breed and hence so readily available, and the fact that they are often cited as being the ideal beginners hawk, the amount of ruined Harris Hawks about is bound to be high. If they are not taken and handled at the right age, they can be an absolute nightmare to work with. A totally wild goshawk would not compare to a Harris Hawk that has it in his head that he does not want to be anywhere near you. So if I can offer some advice to the potential Harris Hawk keeper (and I do this only because I have made nearly every mistake going), let it be this;  Firstly, don’t just get one because one is available, prepare and book your bird long in advance and make sure you take her at the proper age. And secondly, even after spending as much time out and about with other Harris hawkers, make sure you have an experienced falconer to hand that can help and guide you through the maze of training your first bird.

This species is very intelligent and so easily trained in the right hands.

This species is very intelligent and so easily ruined in the wrong hands.

A good Harris Hawk is an absolute joy to spend time with. Because of its different and varied hunting styles it can probably put more game in the bag than most other hawks after a morning out walking the hills.

I have seen old school traditional falconers, men that would argue against these easy flown hawks, where the mere idea of hunting in a group goes totally against the grain and where the flying of falcons rules supreme. I had heard them putting Harris Hawks down time and time again. But I have watched them sit on a hilltop in Ireland on a breezy day and totally enjoy the spectacle of a dog below them working cover for rabbits while two or more Harris Hawks circled the skies above, diving and stooping down like a bullet to catch its prey or sometimes after every effort has been made and the bunny runs free, to watch a hawk climb on the rising air again and prepare for the next chase. Like the two old hecklers in the Muppet Show they had spent years shooting down any virtues of these “Mexican Chickens”. But out on that hill, these old falconers had to admit that maybe, just maybe, the Harris might have something to offer that is very special indeed.

Tom.

I am an avid bird-watcher, but I also like to catch hooded crows, and it’s not everyday that one gets a chance at this most wily of prey. Due to the fact that the two crows were feeding under the brow of the slope, this allowed me good sneaking room along the top.

Quietly I opened the door and slunk out, quietly I nipped ‘round to the back of the jeep and quietly took out the female Harris. As I ducked down and tip-toed along the top of the slope I could hear the Pink Panther theme tune in my head and had to glance around quickly to make sure no one was watching. After mentally gauging the distance and figuring I was in the right place with the two crows just below me I nudged the Harris over the edge.

She is a good bird and caught many crows over her two years, and has even taken large herring gulls on occasion, so I knew she was well able to handle either of the two corvids. Having kept hooded crows and ravens as pets when I was young I have a sneaking respect for both, but especially the formidable raven, so mentally I hoped she would catch the hooded crow and I would give her a good feed up before the next rain shower came.

The Harris Hawk went over the hill like a bullet. With a loud squawk of pure fright the hoody took off first. The raven, being bigger was just that bit slower off the mark, and with the hawk catching up fast it looked to me like a done deal with one less raven in the world.

 Ravens are an extremely aerial bird and are also seriously powerful on the wing as anyone that has spent time with one can confirm. This raven was no exception and it twisted out of the first grasp of the hawk. The Harris missed first time but it was obvious the raven was doomed.

Then it happened. The raven dropped whatever it was carrying; the thing it had been feeding on was still in its beak as it took off and my Harris suddenly changed direction and caught it in the air before it hit the ground. Of course the two crows shouted abuse as they flew of unscathed to feed another day. I was left thankful there were no other fellow falconers watching my feeble attempt at outwitting a crow!

As they say; “There is many a slip between cup and lip!”

Another day in the life of an Irish falconer.

Tom

“Lamping!”
“You don’t do that, do you?’’

I once sat at a table with some well known British falconers, purists from ‘Ye Olde Scool of Fauconrie’- you know the type, when I happened to mention that my female Redtail was catching rabbits both day and night. I couldn’t believe the reaction it got, ‘It’s unnatural’, ‘hawks shouldn’t fly at night’, ‘that’s not cricket’. Luckily for me nobody was armed, the fact we had just finished a conversation about another traditional past time; adultery, didn’t seem to bother them at all.

Lamping with a hawk does seem to be a controversial subject, it is unnatural, it is definitely not cricket, but it can be very fruitful. The only argument against lamping with hawks that I do agree with is that the flights are not as spectacular as daytime flights. You lose a lot of the excitement of the hunt; the hawk will either catch its prey or return to you for the next try. If you do it for pest control reasons, though, the purists don’t seem to mind as much. So I suppose it’s all right to do it - once you don’t have any fun!

There is a lot to be said in favour of lamping. Most ordinary people have ordinary jobs, so when winter arrives and they have no daylight hours at home, what happens to the birds? You could do as the purists above do and let the birds sit on their perch until the days grow longer, or you could fly them in the evenings with the lamp – which would the bird prefer? When winter arrives, rabbits can be very hard to find, with nights being so long, the few that have survived have no reason to be out and about during the day, they naturally prefer the comfort of darkness. So, unless you use ferrets or have a good hawking dog to flush them from cover, you will be buying a lot of your hawk food. I lamp to feed my motley carnivorous menagerie (that includes the kids) and to keep neighbouring landowners happy, after all they don’t begrudge me the odd pheasant.

A farmer next to me had a visit from another neighbour to overlook his crops, apparently (and I have only discovered this recently) they view each other’s cattle and crops in the same way as pigeon fanciers or falconers like to show off their birds. Anyway, while they were sizing up the crops, the visitor asked why there was so little crop damage and so few rabbits on the farm. He was then told about my nocturnal activities with hawks, dogs and lamp, and how I, on the wettest, wildest winter nights, venture out under cover of darkness to save his crops from the ravaging hoards, arriving home with bags full of rabbits and pigeons and other crop eating vermin. Slight exaggeration on his part, but I didn’t let on. Now the interesting bit, the second farmer asked, if it wasn’t too much trouble, would I come and lamp on his land too!

Weather conditions are very important. Traditionally the lamper was accompanied by a dog and carried out his activities on the blackest, windiest nights, while sane folk barricade themselves indoors in front of the television and a warm fire. There is no point venturing out when there is a large moon as the rabbits will be watching your approach and act accordingly, the same goes for a windless night as you will be heard even before you enter the field. Conditions are only slightly different when using a hawk. Rain, which doesn’t matter to the dog enthusiast, will have your hawk feeling miserable in no time and you will find yourself trudging home through the mud, reaching for the hair dryer to save your bird from pneumonia. If the wind is too high it can be a nuisance to the hawker. A hawk cannot be expected to fly up-wind anywhere near the speed of a running rabbit and as you should not approach directly down wind for obvious reasons, something less than a gale is preferable. One friend, that regularly lamps his goshawk, reckons that when the wind is too strong, if she doesn’t hit the rabbit by the first turn, that’s it, the rabbit is away home.

Redtails, both males and females are commonly flown at rabbits; one particular male was known locally as the ‘stealth bomber’ because all his missions were at night! Goshawks have successfully been flown at rabbit and pigeon, I regularly use my female sparrowhawk to catch feral pigeons in sheep houses and grain stores and the little musket has been used in the same buildings after sparrows. Ferruginous hawks, ignored and underrated by many could easily be put to good use, particularly the males, which are usually overlooked by most people when choosing a hunting bird. As far as I know they are as yet untried at night.

By far the commonest bird used for lamping is the Harris hawk. They take to it so naturally, a couple of nights of additional training, throwing food into the beam and recalling to the fist and you should be ready to go. The female is the better choice for rabbits, not as fast as the smaller male over a short distance, but strong enough to hold every rabbit. Goshawks and redtails will catch rabbits at night and do it with more style and flair than a Harris, but their ‘give it all you got’ attitude, which works so well in the daytime, could lead them into trouble at night. The easy going style of the Harris suits night flying, where the Goshawk or Redtail fly directly at the rabbit, negotiating fencing and barbed wire on the way, the Harris will usually float up, follow the rabbit from above and wait its chance to strike. This is a very effective technique and much safer. The mother of my female is a master at this style of flying. If a rabbit is spotted, she will leave her owner’s fist, disappear from view and won’t enter the beam of light until she hits the rabbit, striking it from above. The only thing the Harris hawk has going against it is those perfect, unbreakable feathers tend to soak up water like a sponge. After a couple of hits or misses when the ground is wet, her tail and wing tips will be soaked and she will tire more quickly.

Another form of lamping I enjoy is catching wood pigeons in the trees. The local farmers usually supply cartridges to shooters to keep pigeons off their crops, so they are delighted. The bird for this job is a male Harris hawk, he is smaller and quicker through the trees and flying up at steep angles, 30 or 40 feet at a time is harder work for the bigger female. When a hawk is used for both rabbits and pigeons they will often refuse rabbits if they hear the easier option noisily leaving the trees, so it is better, if you can, to keep one bird for one job. When in search of pigeons you will need wind, and lots of it, pitch black and gale force are the perfect conditions. When the winds are high the pigeons will roost lower down in the trees. They don’t like to be blown around on the swaying tops and look for a more sheltered spot lower down. The wind will also cover the sound of your approach and if there is light enough to see you, the pigeons will find a safer refuge. When I am planning to fly the male at pigeons I usually put his weight up quite high; this is for a couple of reasons. Unlike day hawking there are no distractions. When he is on the fist all he can see is what is in the beam, and if he misses his quarry all I do is shine the beam on my fist for his return. Another reason for not having him too low is that when he catches a pigeon he could also have a handful of branches as well, if he is too anxious to get a meal he will hang on for dear life. This usually means upside down, 40 foot up a tree, in the middle of a wood, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a gale. Catching pigeons is what he likes to do and during last winter this one bird caught enough food to feed my family and other animals for weeks on end. This is not an exaggeration; I did say lamping could be very fruitful.

The equipment used is fairly simple; it has to be, because if it goes wrong you’re stuck out there in the dark, and if you’ve ever been lost in the countryside without even the lights of a distant house as a landmark you know how dark dark can get. You could do what I once done, and walk for over an hour in the wrong direction! The lamp is a 12v lamp with full and dipped beams, the dip being used for general walking and to recall the bird to the glove. The battery is a small 12v dry cell like a house alarm battery. The dry cell fits into a small bag held on the belt and leaves room to carry a small rucksack for quarry.

Telemetry is a must, but bells can be a hindrance. Pigeons often fly just before a hawk reaches them, but this happens too often if the hawk is wearing bells. Rabbits too can hear them coming and turn at the last second. My Harris’s wear a second, very small anklet above the normal anklet on one leg; the bell is attached to this with a small cable tie and can be clipped off for lamping or replaced for daytime hawking. At night kills are usually made in sight of the falconer so it’s not a big deal to fly without bells. Telemetry is a different story, if a hawk is on a kill at night and you can’t find her, she could be in trouble. A fox won’t miss many fresh kills and if your hawk happens to be standing on it, well you can imagine the rest. Foxes can also be a danger when your hawk catches a rabbit, as they know well the squealing of a rabbit in trouble and usually come running to administer the coup de grace, a spotlight won’t deter a fox about to grab his dinner.

Some people still believe that the beam of light dazzles the rabbits and you can just pick them up. These people always refuse an invitation to see for themselves, I think they are afraid to get their waxed jackets wet. A night out with a hawk and lamp can be very enjoyable - to watch the hawk as he tries to out-manoeuvre a rabbit. They know when to run and when to hide, where they’re heading for and how to use every obstacle and piece of cover on the way.

My favourite lamping story was told by a friend from the midlands, a well-known area for hunting, where wives sit patiently knitting and waiting for their beloved to return from the field. On this particular night our hero left his cottage and braved the freezing elements, fought the bitter winds and made his way to the leeward side of the hill, where the rabbits would be feeding, getting some shelter from the biting winds. After catching two or three rabbits he was returning home past what could only be described as mid-way between a pond and a swamp. A magpie, disturbed either by the cold or the crunching footsteps below, started to chatter and the brave little Harris took off in pursuit. On goes the beam just in time to illuminate the hawk catching the magpie and both falling to the ground, well they never got to the ground because they ended up in the middle of the frozen pond/swamp, on thin ice. What to do? Never one to lose his head this falconer spied a branch lying across the quagmire and decided to tiptoe out far enough to reach the hawk. As you have probably guessed, the branch broke and he found himself up to the knees in frozen water. Undaunted, he spied a much bigger and sturdier branch growing from the opposite bank, if he could belly crawl, with lamp in one hand, out far enough, he just might be able to reach his hawk. This big branch growing out across the pond had given up growing years before, and with an almighty crack deposited our hero, complete with hawking bag, lamp and battery, up to his neck in freezing cold water. This did not have a positive effect on the battery, and as he plunged into the swamp, he was also plunged into complete darkness. He felt around in the water, found his hawk (which was also drenched and frozen but still clinging to the magpie), dragged himself out of the water and trudged the remaining miles home. He told me this story over the phone, and his parting words were -

“and the women think we’re out enjoying ourselves!”

So as you can see, lamping might not be the ideal way to fly your hawk, but which would you choose? Do as the purists would have us do and leave the bird to stagnate on a perch, waiting for longer days, or charge up your battery?

Tommy Byrne. 2001

‘Hello, my name is …………, I want to get into falconry and I was half thinking of getting a …….

(in this space put anything from a bat falcon to a lammergeyer), but, the only birds available seem to be redtails and harris’s. Are these good beginners birds?’

This type of phone call is getting more common (which is OK by me), but before giving my usual answer of yes and no, I’ll try to explain.

The following is written for those contemplating their first Redtail or Harris Hawk.

These two have become the most popular hunting birds in Ireland today and have largely replaced the more traditional goshawk for a few good reasons:

1. They are easier to breed in captivity than goshawks (eunuchs are probably easier to breed than goshawks and tend not to eat their partner).
2. The quantity and quality of handling at the start, to properly man or tame the bird is not so intense with a Harris or redtail. They are very calm and relaxed compared to goshawks and spars.
3. They suit most people’s modern lifestyle and don’t have to be flown every day, although obviously the more hunting the bird does the better the bird will be.
4. Harris’s and Redtails can be flown and hunted over any type of terrain available in Ireland.
   Like the goshawk and sparrowhawk and unlike the common buzzard (which was the traditional British bird for the beginner) the Harris and Redtail will catch things, edible things, game for the kitchen.
5. Rabbits, pheasants, partridge, grey squirrel, ducks and moorhens are some of the tasty items on the menu for these two hawks.
6. These two species are opportunists, you go hunting but you don’t know what’s going to end up in the bag at the end of the day. (I’ve recently seen my old female Harris dive like an osprey from thirty feet or more into a deep pond after what I presume was a frog).

If you want to fly a sparrowhawk or goshawk don’t get a Harris or Redtail as a stepping stone, a bird to make your mistakes with and then pass on to some poor unfortunate. If you want a Gos, get a Gos, if you want a spar, get a spar, (be very careful here with weight control and diet). The enthusiasm of a serious beginner for his or her first bird should not be wasted on a bird they are not going to keep. Young Harris’s and Redtails are not very fast to mature, lack the size and weight of the adult and so are rarely at their best in the first year. In other words they only get better and better.

Let’s take for granted you are going to choose one of these two species and keep it forever or until one of you expires.

Redtails.

This species is orientated mostly towards ground quarry. The braver females can take hares, but don’t count on it; the Irish hare is no sissy. Both sexes will take squirrel (not everyone’s first choice for main course). Both will take pheasant and other birds if they spot them on the ground, but in Ireland this species really excels at rabbits. The females will usually hold every rabbit they come in contact with, but being bigger won’t be as quick off the mark as the smaller male. The male won’t hold every rabbit it hits, but if you are going ‘rough shooting’ with the chance of the odd rabbit, pheasant, squirrel or moorhen then the male may be the more exciting option.

Redtails are said to have two bad faults, being moody and being footy. The so-called ‘moodiness’ (sitting up a tree and refusing to come down) usually comes after a failed attempt at quarry. A Redtail in the wild may sit for hours on a tree or post waiting for some creature to pass below, it will then dive down and try catch it, and if it fails goes back up on the post to wait for it’s next victim. So you can see where they get the patience. Good initial training and giving large rewards after each failed attempt will keep this problem to a minimum. The other problem is ‘footiness’ or striking out at your ungloved hand. This is something you definitely want to avoid, as the Redtail, so the experts tell us and I agree, has a stronger grip for its size than any other bird. A lot of the time this problem arises from food association, the bird is tit-bitted from the right hand or it sees food being passed to the glove. In other words don’t let the ungloved right hand be associated in the bird’s brain with food.

Most Americans choose the Redtail as their first bird, their only other choice is the kestrel (which can be trained to hunt starlings and other small birds, but won’t fill your larder). They have to trap their own ‘passage’ bird – a bird strong on the wing and killing for itself. The bird’s next stage is to be tamed by man, one of its only enemies. These passage birds always carry a slight fear or respect for man, aviary-bred eyasses have never had this initial fear. So the American’s tame their already hunting hawk, whereas we try to teach our tame hawk to hunt.
What you are trying to achieve with your aviary-bred Redtail is:
1.Reduce her (or his) weight as quickly as possible to get her trained and killing for herself and to stop looking to you for food.
2. Reduce her weight as slowly as possible to avoid sudden hunger, sustained hunger can bring on bad habits. So you can see, as with any other hawk, it’s a fine balancing act.

Flying Redtails is an under-rated past-time. They have a bigger heart and crash into cover that would deter most other raptors, when they go for it they really give all they have. Some of my best memories have been with my female, hunting rabbits on the mountains of Wicklow, with the dog working below us on a bright and bitter winter’s morning.
I was once quoted as saying ‘flying Redtails is like puberty, everyone has to go through it’. I don’t believe that anymore.

Harris hawks.

Named by Audubon after one of his cronies, also called the bay-winged hawk, this hawk has picked up a few other names along the way, like ‘Mexican chicken’. The Harris is taking over as Ireland’s most popular falconry bird. It can be the nicest of birds – I have a photograph of my three year old daughter sharing a bow perch and hugging my female Harris (don’t try this at home folks, you’ll get chocolate all over your hawk). It can also be the nastiest of birds – a friend has a nice little scar under his eye after a Harris hawk took a definite dislike to him.

The one thing the Harris has in its favour is the fact that in the wild they hunt in a pack. Now, this is no small thing, it not only means that you can fly two or more Harris’s together, it also means that you are viewed as a member of the pack as is the ferret and dog (be careful here and socialise all together first). It also means that the Harris naturally follows when you’re walking (to keep up with the pack), where the Redtail (usually a solitary hunter) needs a little bit of training to do this.

Most people that put Harris Hawks down (usually those that haven’t flown one), say they only fly half-heartedly at quarry. There are two reasons why it might seem to be so. With a well trained Harris hawk there is a big difference between its actual hunting weight and its top safe flying weight (up to 12% in my two birds). So the Harris that looks as if it’s putting every effort into catching, only to refuse easily taken prey is usually a bit high in weight and doesn’t want the struggle all on it’s own – if this was a pack situation it would have all the help it needed. So weight control needs careful attention if you want to catch dinner. The other reason Harris’s fly half-heartedly is a simple but effective hunting technique, soaring away, minding her own business, (impersonating a vegetarian), then suddenly performing a spectacular wing-over and diving on some unsuspecting prey.

Like most other creatures that hunt in a pack, Harris Hawks are vocal, from near silent to downright noisy, so the age to take your Harris can be a problem. Cut a very young bird’s weight too low too quick and you could have a screamer on your hands, (a noise that can drive you over the edge), leave it in the aviary too long and you will definitely have your work cut out just to tame the beast. Some breeders leave young with parents until November, twenty five to thirty weeks old. No thanks!

Tom and Jennifer Coulson, who hunt a pack of Harris’s say that 15 to 20 weeks old is the perfect age. Martin Hollinshead says very soon after hard penning (all feathers fully grown). My female was taken at this latter stage, was noisy for her first season (which I had to cut short to save my sanity), she is the sweetest bird to handle and quietly vocal only if anything strange is about.

Female Harris hawks are powerful enough to handle any rabbit or pheasant, but in woodland the smaller faster male really shines. Where he might refuse that big fat rabbit sitting in the sunshine, a Harris can’t ignore anything moving about in cover. Some of the best fun I’ve had is in mature woodland with the male and female in the trees waiting for the Brittany to go on point, after the flush it is pure chaotic fun!

Harris hawks at the right weight are lions in lamb’s clothing, my male and female have both taken cats, something to avoid for the birds’ sake. I know of two instances where females have struck large dogs; assault with intent.

So as you can see, Redtails and Harris Hawks are a force to be reckoned with, but are they a good beginner’s bird?
Well…….. … yes and no!

Tommy Byrne 1998.