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For a birthday gift this past winter, I was offered a chance to experience some real, live falconry in Western Mass. I visited New England Falconry in Hadley, and met with Master Falconer Chris Davis, who showed me an introduction to hunting with raptors. Our hunter of choice on this excursion was the extraordinary Harris’s Hawk.

Unfortunately, the Harris’s Hawk is not a resident of Massachusetts - and therefore not on the list. In fact, it’s only found in a few spots in the Southwestern US. These birds thrive in the arid environments of the desert scrublands, hunting mammals, reptiles, birds and insects. They can be seen perched on a tall cactus, telephone pole or tree as they scour for prey. Despite their hot home territory, Harris’s Hawks have been found to be incredibly adaptable to many different types of prey and environments. Their natural skill combined with their even temperament and trainability makes them ideal and popular birds for Falconry throughout the US and Europe.

These hawks are in the parabuteo genus - so they are similar to buteos like the Red-tailed or Red-shouldered Hawk, but are different enough to warrant their own classification. They’re slightly smaller and leaner than a RTH, and with a longer tail. The adult plumage is a chocolate brown with reddish highlights on the shoulders, wings and legs. The tail has a bright white base and tip. Juveniles are similarly decorated, but with lighter streaking.

Probably the coolest thing to me about Harris’s Hawks are their social nature. Unlike any of the other birds on the list, they exhibit social hunting behavior - meaning packs of up to five collaborate to chase fast-moving prey. Once a kill is made, the birds share the meal with the other participants. Check out this National Geographic clip for a great example of the cooperative tactics.

Encounter:

We booked our visit to Hadley in February - an always unpredictable time of year for weather in Western Mass. Unfortunately for me, the week leading up to my visit brought over two feet of snow to the area, so my planned 3-hour quarry hunt experience was shortened due to tough conditions for hunting. Nevertheless, I was able to acquire some incredible knowledge and hands-on time with a group of 3 Harris’s Hawks at New England Falconry.

Master Falconer Chris Davis was my guide, and he shared a wealth of experience and insight into the ancient art of Falconry. Probably the most important and immediate lesson I learned about falconry is that is not the keeping of raptors as pets, but rather the art of hunting for prey using raptors as the implement of the hunt. Like any other type of hunting, it is regulated strictly by rules regarding season, quantity, location and type of quarry. The taking of wild prey is not an incidental result of falconry - it is the express purpose, and therefore requires scientific knowledge, an ethical commitment, and a myriad of respect for the natural world. Chris didn’t assign any names to the birds like pets, instead preferring to treat them as wild animals that are simply hunting with humans for no other reason then that it’s a favorable arrangement for food and shelter.

Falconry requires a commitment well beyond the level of keeping a pet. Raptors need to be delicately maintained in terms of their weight, health, and condition for them to be able to survive. Falconers must make daily commitments to fly their birds, hunt within season, house them in a suitable environment and keep them fed. The process of becoming an independent falconer requires years of training, written tests, and a mandatory period of apprenticeship before licensure. All in all, I learned that falconry is not a hobby for weekend kicks - it is an ancient sport that is a lifelong investment. I won’t even pretend to attempt to give a suitable introduction to the sport through this post, but hopefully you’ll find it as interesting as I do and seek out further information.

Chris and I spent the first portion of our experience just talking birds and the science of raptors. I learned about energy cycles, flying weights, and behavioral observation - all factors that combine to determine when a hawk is ready to be flown or hunt. I also learned about the Harris’s Hawk - a bird that was foreign to me besides showing up in the occasional wildlife documentary. We worked with three birds - two adults and a juvenile - who were basking in the sunlight of a brisk February morning when I arrived.

As an amateur observer of wildlife, I spend plenty of time trying to interpret or predict animal behavior out in the field. Trying to guess what a hawk, falcon or owl is thinking is a big part of what I do when trying to find or photograph a bird. I find it fun, mysterious, and endlessly entertaining. This part of my wild side was really lit up with falconry. Chris had an exceptionally keen eye for behavioral patterns among the birds, and introduced me to a whole glossary full of terms that I’d never heard before. It was a fascinating glimpse into what true expertise through experience looks like with wildlife.

Next up was actually interacting with the birds. I got suited up with chaps and a glove, and got to experience the thrill of having a hawk land on my perched arm. Chris fitted one of the hawks with a radio transponder, signal bells, and then released it into the air. It settled in a nearby tree, while I received further instruction. Chris gave me a quick tutorial on arm positioning. The hawk watched us some 100 feet away on a perch. I raised my arm, Chris placed a portion of meat in the crook of my glove, and I watched in awe as the hawk leapt from the perch and expertly set down on my glove. I marveled at the lightness of the bird (right around 2 pounds), and couldn’t help but smile as I got a close up of the bird’s incredible weaponry - its sharp talons and powerful beak. After scarfing the snack promptly, the hawk burst forward off my arm and back to the perch. It was an unforgettable experience. After several more short perch-to-glove flights, we prepared for a hunt.

The role of humans in a hunt with a Harris’s Hawk is to move the game out from cover, to allow the bird a chance to make a strike. Once a strike is successful, the falconer then finishes the kill, takes the game, and rewards the hawk with food. Chris took me on a short trek through the backyard of the Hadley property. Both of us were equipped with a long, wooden staff for flushing (and potentially dispatching) game - and we did our best to uncover any rabbits that might be hiding in the area. The hawk flew above us and perched high in the trees above, intently watching as we trudged through the thigh-high snow, rattling brush and branch to try and flush something out. It was hard work, making headway in the snow, but excitement provided all the energy I would need. Rabbit tracks and marks were everywhere. The hawk seemed poised for action.

Finally, I heard the ring of the signal bell as the hawk vaulted from his branch and towards us. Chris called out as he recognized the tell-tale signal of a pending strike. The hawk circled over an impossibly-thick patch of tangled vines and branches just to my left. I froze in awe as the hawk spotted its mark, and dove fiercely towards it. It vanished into the brush silently. After a few moments, it returned to the skies, empty-handed - alas, a miss! This round apparently went to the mammal. Still, it was thrilling to be so close to this predator as it launched an attack. The power and speed of the Harris’s Hawk is truly formidable. Our session was now over, but my heart was still pumping from the excitement of the hunt.

Being able to participate in the ancient art of Falconry was a rewarding and eye-opening experience. I now have just the beginning of an understanding about how dedicated one has to be to ever consider hunting with birds. And I had to confront the incredibly honest cycle of life and death that falconers work within. While I don’t think I’ll be quitting my day job anytime soon to become an Apprentice Falconer myself, I will most certainly visit the sport again - hopefully soon.