I had just reached the bottom of my drive when a Shrike flew past me carrying prey in it's feet. It landed in a willow shrub, transferred the small mammal to it's bill, and secured it somehow among the branches. It then groomed for a few moments before starting to feed on the firmly held prey with it's bill. I watched it for a few moments and then continued on my walk. When I returned, the Shrike had gone and I examined what turned out to be some kind of mole, I believe, finding that it was skewered on the broken end of a branch. George Lisi, Woodbury, Vt.