Chapter V.
Last Days in the Eyrie.
Before describing the last few watches, I might mention that, although I describe the birds as toothless, there is a little triangular nick on each side of the beak into which a toothlike projection in the lower jaw fits, a convenient arrangement with a large mouthful. The castings so frequently mentioned were hard, grey slug-shaped bodies, entirely composed of compressed feathers. One of average size, which looked like half a squashed fat cigarette, when teased out in a half-pint bottle of water, formed a dense cloud of down and feathers. Mr. George Mitchell of Bingley, an ardent follower of the ancient sport of kings, tells me that falconers examine the castings carefully; a moist and loose casting denotes ill-health of the falcon.
During my next watch, on June 6th, I noted that the young did a great deal of preening. Their heads are quite dark now, with just a speck of down here and there, the breasts are beginning to feather, and on their backs are two narrow feathered bands, making a pattern like an inverted figure 8. The base of the tail is still downy. One of the young females, after she had preened, went to sleep at the front of the eyrie, and with her head tucked over her left shoulder looked as if decapitated. The young occasionally stand on one foot, generally the left. In preening they pass each feather through the beak, and the liberated down either floats away or is swallowed. When they shake themselves a lot comes off and floats away. One youngster cocked his head round and watched the down floating upwards. I examined a piece which came into the shed; it had a stem about one-eighth of an inch long, branching into forty streamers. As each finished preening, it backs to the edge of the eyrie and, grasping the rock firmly with its talons, beats its wings vigorously for a minute or two. The young ravens used to do the same thing during their last
