One spring his frying chickens started to get gone. They were just disappearing without a trace. One day he heard a racket outside and when he looked out, he saw a large hawk had swooped down and caught one of his big hens.
The hawk had been catching his small frying chickens and flying away with them, but now he had caught a big hen and couldn’t fly off with it.
My uncle grabbed his shotgun and fired at the hawk. The blast of the shotgun killed the hawk and the chicken, too. Since the hen was grown and too old