Roger, our instructor and a falconer for 40 years, held the Harris hawk casually on his buckskin glove like a banker holding a BlackBerry.

“This is how you carry the bird,” he said, turning to face us. “Elbow bent. Hand up, don’t grip the leash too hard, bring the hawk close to your body. Walk evenly, as if you are carrying a cup of tea, and relax. Now then, which of you boys is going first?” Silence. James, 14, and Michael, 16, pointed forefingers at each other. Harris hawks are the most sociable species of the birds of prey genus and we had come to the Black Mountains Falconry Centre near Abergavenny to spend a morning learning how to handle them. But there was no way I was going to hold this mean-taloned, large-beaked raptor before I absolutely had to either.

Eventually, James was urged forward wearing the rictus of a man about to leap from an aircraft. “You look like a bride going up the aisle,” his father, Nick, said from a safe distance as Roger popped the 10kg (22lb) of furry fury on to James’s glove and took him for a stroll. On return a few minutes later, James already looked more at ease.

Since their introduction to Britain, Harris hawks have become one of the most popular birds in falconry. Native to the southwestern states of the USA and South America, the birds are intelligent and easy to train. “They are as biddable as dogs,” Roger said, “and the perfect bird for beginners.”

So biddable are these Harris hawks that after only half an hour of training, Roger declared that we were ready to head into the fields beside the centre, overlooking the bracken and gorse-clad Black Mountains, for a short hunting trip. Martin, another experienced falconer, came to join us. “These three are called Hattie (because she loves to take people’s hats off), Rupert and Jack. All the birds have different temperaments,” Roger said, “but Harris hawks love to hunt in a pack, unlike other birds of prey that will attack each other. They are opportunist, intelligent hunters who use short bursts of speed to catch mice, squirrels, pheasant, rabbits, even hare.”

Roger then taught us how to call the birds to us. Pulling a morsel of chicken from a bag and holding it in his raised glove, he whistled to Jack, who swooped down from a bough and landed, talons outstretched, with a thump. Michael and James looked anxious. At over 50cm (20in) tall, Harris hawks look impressive enough standing on the glove. With a wingspan of around 1.2m (4ft), they look truly menacing in the air. With blackish brown plumage and chestnut forewings, they resemble flying dobermans.

As we walked across the fields, the birds swooped and sprung from bough to bough, chatting noisily, half keeping an eye on us, half scouting for prey. Intermittently, Michael and James turned and called Hattie or Rupert just as one would call a dog. On one occasion, they both landed on James’s outstretched glove simultaneously and, to make room, Hattie made her emergency landing on his shoulder. “That’s called a Rolf of Harris hawks,” Martin said.

By the time we had wound our way back to the Falconry Centre, the hawks were like old friends. In a sense, handling birds of prey ought to be instinctive to the British. “Falconry is the oldest British sport; before the innovation of the shotgun in the 17th century, most people in Britain would have been familiar with birds of prey,” Martin said. “We might just be tapping in to an ability that is innate in us all.”

Of course, it could be that these birds are simply very well trained.

Need to know: Rob Penn went on a Hawk Experience Day at the Black Mountains Falconry Centre (01873 850377, www.blackmountains falconry.co.uk); £45pp for a minimum of two people.
Adventure Wales: 0800 9156567, www.adventure.visitwales.com

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