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The hunter hunted

The photograph to the right shows a haul of recovered rare birds' eggs. Who stole them? By Duff Hart-Davis

Duff Hart-Davis
Friday 16 June 1995 23:02 BST
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All over Britain, guardian eyes remain trained on the nests of rare birds. For although the breeding season is well advanced, there is still a chance that robbers will try to steal eggs or chicks, and a large effort - most of it voluntary - is being mounted to frustrate them.

Out last week on the Welsh borders with Mike Thornley, a Forestry Commission ranger, I saw at first-hand how difficult it is to protect nests in the wild country that major raptors frequent. Our mission was to check on a goshawk nest in a larch plantation near the head of a remote valley.

Leaving our van well out of sight, we walked quietly up a track round the shoulder of the hill - but the female detected our presence long before we came into view, and began giving her high, staccato alarm call. A quick inspection revealed that all was well: there were no marks of climbing irons on the trunk, and a splatter of white droppings round the tree showed that the chicks were well grown. Feathers from a magpie and a pigeon gave an indication of what the young hawks were living on.

So as not to worry the female unduly, we scrambled on up the steep bank until we were well clear of the nest. As we waited, hidden in the bracken on the forest floor, Mike described the ferocity with which the bird protects her young: so aggressive is she that her mate does not dare bring food to the nest. Rather, he takes kills to a feeding stump, and summons her with a call.

Suddenly we were rewarded by a magnificent sight: in swept the female to land in a tree below us, and for a few moments my binoculars were filled by an unforgettable vision of flashing dark eyes, curved beak and barred underparts.

Later we visited another nest site where, last year, a brilliant surveillance operation by Forestry Commission volunteers resulted in a red-handed capture. Given the steepness and remoteness of the terrain, it seemed extraordinary that they managed to apprehend Geoffrey Griffiths as he left a nest with four goshawk eggs in his possession. But trap him they did - and imagine their chagrin when, on trial in Ludlow, he pleaded poverty and got away with a year's probation, even though he had a previous conviction for egg-stealing.

Nest-robbers are of two kinds: those who take eggs to add to their own collections, and those who steal eggs or fledglings with the aim of rearing the birds for sale. Under the terms of the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981, all activity of this kind is illegal, and the penalties which courts may impose sound quite formidable: fines of up to pounds 1,000 per egg, and confiscation of equipment such as binoculars, climbing irons and even cars. In practice, however, it is extremely difficult to catch robbers red-handed - and even when they are caught, they often get off almost unscathed.

There is practically no market for eggs, and people collect them for arcane reasons. More often, the aim of the thieves is to claim that young hawks have been legally reared from captive parents, so they can sell them to falconers, either in this country or abroad.

With a peregrine fetching up to pounds 1,000, and a goshawk up to pounds 800, there is clearly a strong financial incentive; yet both kinds of thieves seem to be driven by some strange compulsion, returning to the crime again and again despite repeated convictions. Oddly enough, the robbers seem to be all male: no woman has yet been convicted, except of acting as an accessory.

The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds knows not only the names, but also the faces, of men who have been fined five, six or even seven times. The mania for collecting transcends all social groups: solicitors and doctors have been among those caught. One notorious practitioner, Colin Watson of North Yorkshire, works on maintenance in power stations. Marcus Betteridge, most recently caught in Shetland last year (and fined pounds 1,500), was landlord of the George Inn at Buckfastleigh, in Devon.

When two British collectors were apprehended, jailed and heavily fined in Finland, a psychiatrist who examined them found they were suffering from an obsessional neurosis akin to kleptomania. This diagnosis certainly makes sense, for the robbers seem to be driven by motives as dark as they are irrational.

Their targets are not only raptors but also stone curlews and avocets; the demise of the red-backed shrike, which no longer breeds in Britain, is thought to have been accelerated by their efforts.

To the RSPB, the taking of eggs is pure cruelty. "Most people would feel revolted by the idea of blowing an egg and washing the embryo away down the sink," said Andy Jones, the society's head of investigations. Such wanton destruction also threatens the recovery rate of these endangered species. Peregrines are relatively plentiful, with 1,200 pairs, but there are only 200 to 250 pairs of goshawks and 100 pairs of ospreys. The RSPB estimates that there could have been 200 pairs of ospreys by the year 2000 were it not for the thieves.

The society tries to make the law more effective by encouraging statutory bodies, such as the police, to take a greater interest in conservation. But 24-hour surveillance makes heavy demands: it needs a dozen people to watch a single nest round the clock, and effort must be concentrated on relatively few sites.

This year, for instance, together with Scottish Wildlife, the society has kept watch on 10 osprey nests in Scotland, but at least five other sites have been robbed - the worst figure for years. The problem is compounded by the very success of the osprey conservation programme. The species ceased to breed in Britain during the early years of this century, and great was the rejoicing when a single pair returned to Loch Garten in the Fifties. Now, largely due to the strenuous efforts of the RSPB, some 95 pairs are breeding in Scotland and it is physically impossible to keep an eye on every nest.

Despite all the difficulties, the RSPB is cautiously optimistic. On the one hand, a government working group is studying ways of giving the law sharper teeth, and on the other, DNA genetic profiling has begun to make life harder for people who try to pass off wild hawks as the progeny of birds in captivity. A small blood sample is enough to determine real parentage. Last year, by this means, a Northumberland man was jailed for 18 months for taking peregrines from the wild. This augurs well for wildlife.

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