The temp in the field was 38 degrees, but at least the grass wasn't wet. I let her out of her box and as usual she flew to a nearby rock jack while I got over the fence.Once I was in the field and walking, she joined me on the perch, and we began our search. We hadn't gone too far when a Jack jumped and she was off. He used the fence to slow her down a bit and then eventually lost her in the next field. She rejoined me, and we continued zigging and zagging through the Sage, trying to find one that wanted to come home with us. It took her 5 tries at the various Jacks before she got a clear shot at one. She crashed into the brush but still didn't get her feet on it. This was better, she wasn't just following looking for an opening, she was trying to make one.
She had gone to one of the large rock outcroppings to get a better view, while I worked the Sage in front of it. I turned away, and she soon flew to join me. Her feet no sooner touched the perch when a small Jack jumped in front of us. She hit the perch and was off after him, but missed. She came back to the perch and we had gone no more than 15 feet when the Jack jumped again. She burned him down in 20 feet catching him in the butt right in the middle of a Sage bush. I was a bit more confident this time, and pushed him back towards her. She soon changed her footing to his head, and he was in the bag. As you can see from the picture I was right over top of her. We finally got the Jack dispatched, and I gave her a front leg. She carried it off a few feet to eat, while I went to clean our prize. When I returned carrying a rear leg, she slammed into my fist holding the original leg. I thanked the Gods and the Jack for his sacrifice and we made our way back to the car and my still hot cup of coffee. The whole thing had taken about 30 minutes. Now I don't for a minute believe that it will be easy from now on, but one thing is for sure, she is on the right track, and will improve each time I take her out.
I have had several requests concerning Jasper and his exploits, so here goes. We have been forced by circumstances beyond our control, to resort to bagged game, and I don't consider that to be noteworthy. I am not being a snob, but falconry is by definition hunting wild game. Our problem is made worse by our very isolation. The trees, and marsh areas surrounding the ranch are inhabited by an unknown number of Owls. Mostly a bunch of Barn Owls, and a pair of Great Horned Owls. All of which intimidate the heck out of a small 3 oz bird. When you have the only cover and trees for miles around, it has a tendency to draw every raptor in the area. All of the Sparrows congregate around Tami's house, and Chickens. One flight is about all one gets before the Sparrows take refuge in the tree where the Owls are. So Tami brings him over here at the house and we get maybe a couple of slips at the Sparrows around my Chicken house and then they all take refuge in the Cattails down by the creek. If we lived in suburbia, it would be no problem, we would just stick him in the car and drive down by the Dairy Queen and get it done.
So we generally do our best to get him as many flights as we can at wild game, and then work on his following and waiting on. If he does well, I toss him a Sparrow or Black bird.
Yesterday, we ran the Sparrows around the Chicken and Pigeon house until he saw a Black Bird inside the Chicken house that was in my trap. The hunt was over at that time. He was running around on top of the wire trying to get inside so he could catch it. Karen was closer so she went into the pen and caught the Black Bird. She brought it to me, but Jasper was still trying to get inside. He wasn't listening to any suggestions that he come to Tami's fist, so I waved it at him, and he was soon on my head looking for it.
All the Sparrows had left the area, so we walked out into the field by the hanger. Jasper wasted no time and was soon in a hover over our heads. I wanted to plant the bird rather than toss it, so I was shaking the bird around while holding it in my fist. This makes them dizzy and they will stay where you put them for a while. I had just turned to ask Tami, where the rascal was, when he slammed into my fist with all the force that 3 ounce's can bring to bear. He bit me on the knuckle, trying to dig the bird out of my hand. The only thing sticking out of my hand was the tail feathers, but that was enough.
Tami called him to the fist for a tidbit, and he soon took off to again hover over us. I tossed the Black Bird and for the first time, he slammed into the bird in the air right in front of us. He then popped out his wings, and parachuted to the ground fighting the bird all the way down. He soon gained control with a bit of Tami's help.
It is a real shame that we have so little access to suitable game for him as he would really shine if he had the chance. I cannot complain with anything about him or the way that he has been trained. The little guy qualifies for the title of "Hunting Hawk" in every sense. There is no foolishness about him. When you take the leash off he is in hunting mode and will do what it takes to catch something. The fault is ours alone in not being able to give him the slips he needs.
The key to successful falconry is to get a bird that is suited to the game and terrain that you have to hunt. Novices are restricted to Red Tails and Kestrels for the first two years. Neither of which are suited for either the game or terrain here. Red Tails just don't have the acceleration or agile turns required to catch Jacks without a tree or some other height. The Kestrel we have found is also at a disadvantage here as well. This is one instance where I would allow a novice a Goshawk for her apprentice period. We have ducks in excess all year around, Quail are in great abundance. We will just have to struggle along until next November when Tami will be a "General" falconer and can have what she wants.
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