Falconry, an ancient form of hunting, finds new devotees

GRANTVILLE, PA. >> The redtailed hawk sat perched on the twisted limb of an old, dead tree, its eyes locked on the woman traipsing through the briars and thickets below.

Wherever Jade Chen went, Candy Corn, the hawk, followed. Sometimes Chen, 33, had to blow a small whistle around her neck to nudge him.

“Come on, boy,” she said.

Chen wore a thick, leather glove called a gauntlet that extended up her arm, and when she raised it, Candy Corn swooped down through the forest in silence toward her. Little bells on his talons jingled when he landed on her hand. Then he was off again, looking for a tree from which to best look at Chen.

“Let’s find a rabbit,” she said to the bird.

Chen, who lives in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, is a second-year apprentice falconer, one of just 204 people in the state licensed to take part in falconry, one of the world’s most ancient forms of hunting.

Falconry’s origins have been traced back thousands of years to Mongolia and Iran, considered both a high art and a way to find food. Falconry is unique in hunting because the bird, not its handler, is the hunter.

“I like to think of it as a working relationship,” said Courtney Douds, a master falconer who lives in West Philadelphia and acts as Chen’s “sponsor.”

On this cold, dreary morning on a hilly property where she obtained permission to hunt, 13 miles northeast of Harrisburg, Chen is wearing thick chaps and boots and carrying a long staff that she’ll use to beat the brush and, ideally, flush a rabbit. Candy Corn would do the rest.

For a hunt to be successful, the raptor needs to be hungry and weighed daily. Chen has brought bits of quail, which she also weighed, to feed the bird, along with a live quail in case Candy Corn’s hunt is unsuccessful. She warned the homeowner to put the chickens away.

“Oh, he’d take a chicken in a heartbeat,” she said. “That would be an easy meal for him.”

Unlike a hunting dog purchased from a breeder, falcons and hawks used for falconry are usually wild animals. Apprentices must trap, train and care for them in home enclosures called mews during the season, which generally runs from late fall to spring.

One of the most popular traps is a “bal-chatri,” an ancient, efficient design with nooses that ensnare the bird’s legs as it tries to get the live bait inside. The bird must be a “passage juvenile,” meaning it is about to enter its first winter and is generally smaller than an adult. Candy Corn, Chen said, is likely 6 to 8 months old.

“You drive around, look for birds in open fields or on telephone wires, and you just pull over and throw the trap,” Chen said.

Apprentices become general falconers after two years of training and later are named masters. Falconers in the upper ranks are able to buy birds from licensed breeders or sometimes remove them from nests. A redtailed hawk can cost up to $1,000, but Chen said most falconers trap them.

The process is regulated by the Pennsylvania Game Commission, and federal Fish and Wildlife laws apply to most of the birds because they are migratory.

In some rare instances, with the right permit, falconers can keep large golden eagles, which can be used to hunt red fox, formidable predators on their own.