288 THE UNIVERSE. 



than the swallow. It is astonishing what a number of jour- 

 neys it must make to carry to the tops of the trees the tem- 

 pered, almost pure, earth of which its family-dwelling is 

 composed. The oven-bird is the size of a quail. Its hemi- 

 spherical nests, placed in the bifurcation of large branches 

 of trees, are more than eight inches in diameter, and weigh 

 from three to four pounds. Even if such a building cannot 

 be compared in point of labor to that of the Megapodius, it 

 is nevertheless remarkable for its compact masonry and for 

 its opening being exactly similar to the mouth of a baker's 

 oven. 



Prince Charles Bonaparte has made us acquainted with a 

 charming and curious little owl, which ought also to be 

 placed in the category we are speaking of. It is a revolted 

 child, which disdains all the traditions of its family, and 

 which, in spite of an owl's nocturnal livery, deserts the an- 

 cient ruin and the obscurity of the cave, to hunt in full day 

 and by a bright light which would blind its comrades. This 

 species abounds in the Mississippi regions, where it shelters 

 itself in subterranean abodes several yards in depth, the 

 entrance to which is crowned by a mound of earth. It is 

 called the burrowing-owl [Strix cunicularia) ; nevertheless, 

 it does not strictly merit the appellation, for it is often sim- 

 ply a spoiler, installing itself in the villages of the marmots 

 or prairie-dogs, which it probably drives away. What is 

 certain is that, according to this illustrious ornithologist, 

 the two animals do not live together, but when menaced by 

 a common danger the marmot and owl squat at the bottom 

 of the same hiding hole, where they are sometimes found 

 surrounded by the most unexpected guests, in the midst 

 of a company of toads, rattlesnakes, and lizards ! 



