Joe Zbyrowski, right, yesterday waves a broom to keep a swooping falcon away from Mike Amaral, of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Below, two of the birds perch on a railing on the Bank of America building, high above downtown Providence. The Providence Journal / Bill Murphy

PROVIDENCE — Blood stained the falcon’s feet.

Still red, the blood had flowed from a kill she had made earlier yesterday morning.

Now she was diving at Michael Amaral, who was crawling on the roof outside the 30th floor of the Bank of America building. He was wearing a winter-weight parka and a rock-climber’s helmet. Joe Zbyrowski, who was supposed to be guarding Amaral, didn’t see the bird coming.

The falcon hit Amaral’s back and its talons tore four holes in his jacket. In her next successful attack, the bird hit his helmet. It sounded like a small-caliber bullet.

A Rhode Island native, Amaral is an endangered-species specialist for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, based in New Hampshire. He came home yesterday to band three peregrine falcons that hatched about three weeks ago in an aerie above Kennedy Plaza.

Last week, he climbed a tree in Scituate to band a pair of bald eagle nestlings.

Moe Parenteau, a birder from Charlestown, has experience with raptors. He volunteered to assist Amaral in banding the eagles and the peregrines.

Both species were once in danger of becoming extinct.

“Even though we have taken them off the federal list of … endangered species, we don’t just turn our backs on our success stories,” Amaral said. “We like to follow up and ensure that the birds continue to prosper.”

Today, New England has nearly 500 nesting pairs of bald eagles, Amaral said. Eighty-five percent of them are in Maine. The nest in Scituate has produced 10 eagles since its first clutch of eggs in 2003.

There are 95 known nesting pairs of peregrine falcons in New England, Amaral said. Vermont has the most, 35. Amaral has banded 750 peregrines.

The nest in Providence has produced 22 nestlings since the female, called Shadow, laid her first clutch of eggs in 2000, said Zbyrowski. Before her arrival, the last known successful peregrine nesting in Providence was on the same building in 1959, Zbyrowski said.

He built the nest box in 1996, and Shadow arrived as a one-year-old to mate with a bird called U7 for the band he wore. U7 was hatched in Boston. Shadow’s origin is unknown because she was not banded. The bird called U7 was killed, perhaps by the male in the nest now. He arrived in 2004, wearing a band. Yesterday, Journal photographer Bill Murphy was able to get close enough to the male to read its band, and Amaral is checking its background.

Another nesting pair of peregrines on the Pell Bridge has produced 14 birds. When Amaral tags nestlings there, their mother stays in the nest and the biologist can reach around her, without incident, to take her offspring and tag them.

Not so with Shadow.

Her nest is outside the building’s abandoned penthouse, once decorated to look like a stateroom aboard a dirigible. The moment Amaral and a small group of observers appeared in that room, Shadow began to screech.

She and her mate made a series of short flights, demonstrating their ability to attack. Alternately, they would land on a rail within a yard of the penthouse window, their tar-black eyes glaring at the human intruders. Dried blood still flecked the female’s sulfur-yellow feet.

On a ledge a floor below, Amaral climbed a 10-foot ladder to reach the nest. Zbyrowski was behind him, swinging a broom.

Both adult birds were flying and screeching and stooping, their black talons extended.

Moe Parenteau had a green flag on a long pole for fending off the falcons.

Amaral crawled toward the nest. When Zbyrowski gave him the go, the biologist rose to his knees and reached into the nesting box. He would grab a baby bird and place it in a black-net bag with a drawstring.

The nestlings, about the size of pigeons, were covered with a creamy white down. (In another two weeks or so, they will be fledged.)

Amaral found three nestlings, but neither of the unhatched eggs that Zbyrowski had observed earlier. The biologist speculated that the falcons had removed the infertile eggs from the nest.

When all three hatchlings were in the bag, Amaral lowered them on a string to Parenteau waiting below, his arms extended.

One by one, the biologist examined the birds, determined their sex and placed numbered bands on each of their legs, six bands in all.

There were two males and a female, and all three were healthy, Amaral said.

He climbed the ladder again, crawled to the box, and returned the nestlings to the screeching adults. “Both parents,” he said, “are doing a good job.”

tmeade@projo.com