Oi! Leave our chooks alone!

I was coming down from the field Just before 7pm with a bucket of freshly lifted potatoes when I noticed swarms of small birds rocket out from the trees, while our chickens let out a frantic clamour.

There’s only one thing that provokes such a reaction from both wild birds and chickens — hawks!

I dropped the bucket of tatties and ran for the main chicken house as the hens that live in it range freely and, while they have the cover of the trees, they are vulnerable if they can’t get under cover quickly enough.

The cockerels and their hens are fine as they live in runs with overhead mesh, but not our flock of layers.

As I ran, first one and then a second very large hawk swept in over the main winter run.

The first settled into the trees around the hen house, shrieking loud “hi-aa, hi-aa” calls that made the hens even more panicky and start to run back into the open.

The second hawk, which was larger than the first, circled back around over the trees but as it swept towards the chickens I managed to reach the gravel path, grabbed a handful of 5mm chukkies and let fly.

The hawk flew straight into the gravel, which pattered into its chest and wings.

Clearly startled, it jinked and climbed higher while its mate kept calling.

I grabbed another handful of gravel and threw it into the trees, where the smaller hawk was sitting, causing it to fly out and away.

Both hawks then circled me, the hens and the chicken run for a good 10 minutes.

Every time they flew low, I’d launch a handful of gravel at them and they’d shie away again.

Most of the hens had by now disappeared into or under the chicken house, but three of the ISA Browns were too dim to take cover with the rest.

When the hawks flew away, I ran down to the house to let the Other Half know I was being delayed and she should start cooking dinner.

I also called the boys out to help as I saw the hawks swoop low over the road and head towards the hen house again.

We ran back out through the steading and around to the hen house where we just in time to drive off the hawks again.

The boys had brought a couple of sticks with them and rattled them against the trees, while shouting like mad things.

I explained to the boys that while they weren’t allowed to hurt the hawks—that meant no throwing large stones or trying to whack them with the sticks—they could make as much noise as they liked and throw the small gravel that I’d been using earlier.

I then left them on guard around the chicken house while I came in to cook dinner.

After 20 minutes, it was getting darker and the hens had all gone to bed so the boys came in—with a good appetite for their food.

As for the hawks, I’m fairly certain it was our local pair of goshawks.

Both raptors had grey and white barred underparts, broad, barred grey tails, grey wings, white eyebrows and yellow-orange eyes.

The larger one was about 60cm (24in) high and was more brownish-grey in colouring, indicating it was the female.

The smaller one was about 16cm/6in smaller, properly grey in colouring, and had dark patches behind its eyes—like it was wearing a Zorro mask. It would have been the tiercel (male).

I do like having the goshawks around, but I’d rather they didn’t go after our chickens so we have to frighten them as much as possible without running the risk of injuring them. (And killing or injuring raptors is also a serious criminal offence.)

Unfortunately, I think our pair of goshawks are starting to realise that being peppered with small gravel is no worse than being mobbed by flocks of small birds while our shouts and tree whacking has no consequences for them whatsoever.

I had a close encounter with the tiercel last September, while our bantam Peggy Sue gave him a beatingafter he tried to take one of her chicks. Not all our hens are so brave or so lucky, though.

It looks like our hens will be going into their winter quarters with its overhead netting rather sooner than expected…