It is a cold and frosty February morning standing silently hidden on the side of a partially iced lake under his cloak on the glove is hidden his favourite hawk, it is under the cloak to keep it calm and quite it does not have a hood on he will want it to move swiftly into action. On the lake are several wild geese they have not seen him, they quietly drift on the slight current. Breathing the cold frosty air he is not sure whether the slight trembling in his hands is from the cold or in anticipation.
Suddenly from the other side of the lake men appear, as one they shout and beat the staves they hold onto the ground. The startled geese wake swiftly and flap their wings to gain speed moving away from the men that startled them, as they begin to rise into the air towards him, he fling back his cloak and release the hawk towards the rising geese.
The geese can see him now but too late, they cannot change course they are not yet moving fast enough there is no escape. The hawk knows its job it moves swiftly and silently through the air its eyes firmly locked onto its target the leading goose, its brain automatically calculates the point of interception and slight adjustments are made to its flight plan. As it approaches the goose the hawk brings its talons forward ready to strike. The goose in an attempt to avoid the collision tries to veer to the right and dive.
The hawk’s eyes do not leave its prey in anticipation of the move it folds its wings and dives behind the goose. In a last desperate attempt to avoid capture the goose attempts to gain height again but the dive has decreased its air speed and it’s too late the hawk affixes its talons to the head and neck of the goose in a grip of steel. A second hawk released moments later than his by an austringer hidden farther along the bank of the lake takes a second goose, while yet another, a young bird misses its target recovers from its badly judged attack and vainly flies after the geese, who are now rapidly gaining speed.
Meanwhile the goose your hawk has entrapped has stopped flapping its wings it is in shock and quickly dying. his hawk is not strong enough to hold the goose in the air but it will not release its grip and they fall ungainly into the undergrowth beside the lake. One of his falconers runs towards the hawk which is now already up and mantling over the dead goose, its talons further lock onto the goose as it senses the falconers approach, it is not willing to give up its prey. Quickly and expertly the falconer slips a hood on the hawks head tightening it.
The second hawk has fallen into the lake with its catch, a young falconers assistant plunges into the freezing water to rescue the hawk who will drown if it is not retrieved. It is pulled from the water still clutching its prize, the falconer runs forward and again swiftly places a hood on the second hawk.
A falconer approaches the man you first saw hidden by the lake, “my Lord you bird and your Lord Falconer both have prey, and have been hood winked, Master Thomas hawk is in flight and I have sent two lads to retrieve it”.
“Very good” is the reply. The falconer bows and leaves.
It is the year 1526 and you have just witnessed Henry VIII on a hunt.
Pictures by Kees Terberg email Kees@mail2world.com web http://www.pbase.com/terberg
© Headdonhawking 2006 Hawks used in this story are Baywings from Mexico