P.M.—Up Assabet with Pratt.

  Standing under the north side of the hill, I hear the rather innocent phe phe, phe phe, phe phe, phe of a fish hawk (for it is not a scream, but a rather soft and innocent note), and, looking up, see one come sailing from over the hill. The body looks quite short in proportion to the spread of the wings, which are quite dark or blackish above. IIe evidently has something in his talons. We soon after disturb him again, and, at length, after circling around over the hill and adjacent fields, he alights in plain sight on one of the half-dead white oaks on the top of the hill, where probably he sat before. As I look through my glass, he is perched on a large dead limb and is evidently standing on a fish (I had noticed something in his talons as lie flew), for he stands high and uneasily, finding it hard to keep his balance in the wind . . .