Corvid Mobsters—Part 2

I have wondered why it is that hawks allow themselves to be shoved around by a bunch of smaller birds (or the same for a crow being mobbed by songbirds). Sure, it may be outnumbered, but in short order a hawk could easily dispatch an overly aggressive and foolish crow—sending the others fleeing through the trees. I’ve watched a hawk try to ignore the mobbing flock, but subsequently choose to flee, with the crows diving and swooping from behind. The hawk doesn’t seem to be inclined to retaliate. Why not?

A little research told me that even though a hawk could easily kill a crow, the act may require an expenditure of too much energy. Food is not always plentiful for flying carnivores. Crows are agile aerial acrobats, and a hawk would likely have to work hard to catch one. It maybe just ain’t worth the effort, so it vacates the scene. Besides, a hawk is not all that territorial. If it just happens to be sallying through, it has no investment in the area, so it allows itself to be driven off. If the hawk has its own babies to protect, however, it’s a very different story. In this case the crows know it and don’t push their luck. Just a little mobbing noise to warrant their awesome reputation and then move on to easier targets.

This crew of crows that I heard the other evening kept up their raucous chorus for about a half hour, as the scene of the action floated through the woods. It suggested to me that they had themselves a real target and were not just playing or bluffing. In time, they calmed down, and quiet once again reigned in the woods. Then, after a while, I could hear one lone hawk plaintively calling out from the direction of where the mobbing had ended. It sounded weak or defeated. I tried to guess whether it was crying out of pain, or a dented ego, or just sassing back. It was not a happy or triumphant call. I think that crows prevailed on that one.