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AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION' 



Established 1875 Incorporated, Massachusetts, 1892 Incorporated, Connecticut, 1910 



The Pirate of the Night Watches. 



BY THE REVEREND MANLEY B. TOWNSEND, 

 NASHUA, NEW HAMPSHIRE. 



When darkness falls over the earth, 

 and the furtive furry folk come from 

 their hiding places to feed and to play 

 under cover of the friendly gloaming, 

 the great horned owl leaves his seclud- 

 ed perch or some snug tree cavity, and 

 goes forth to seek whom he may de- 

 vour. Then the wild creatures have 

 need of all their caution. Noiseless as 

 drifting smoke, light as thistledown, 

 terrible as fate, the midnight pirate 

 drops 1 upon his prey. 



Two recent experiences have brought 

 the hunting methods of the great horn- 

 ed owl to my attention. Recently a 

 lady telephoned to ask if I would go 

 into her pine grove and ascertain if 

 possible, what had killed a rabbit whose 

 mangled body she had found there. 

 She was puzzled, as no tracks but those 

 of the rabbit were in evidence. There 

 were the remains of poor Peter Cotton- 

 tail — just the skin and the bones. Noth- 

 ing else about but rabbit tracks- Death 

 seemed to have fallen from the skies. 

 About the remains the snow was much 

 trampled. With a stick I began to 

 poke among the bones and the torn fur, 

 and soon found what I was looking for 

 — a wad or pellet about two inches long. 

 Breaking it open I saw in the interior 

 numerous bones of small mammals and 

 one mouse skull, all wadded together by 

 the rodent's fur, or the fur of several 

 rodents. Nothing but a great horned 

 owl could have left that pellet, and the 

 mystery was explained. Owls swallow 

 their prey, — bones, fur and all. The 

 stomach extracts every particle of 

 nourishment, and the refuse is auto- 

 matically wadded into a great pellet 

 and coughed up at the bird's conven- 

 ience. Owl retreats are sometimes dis- 

 covered by the presence of these pellets 

 beneath their hiding places. 



Last summer I had another interest- 

 ing experience. It was on the shore of 

 a lake in Maine. As we sat outside the 

 camp door, enjoying the beauty and the 

 stillness of the night, the intense silence 

 was suddenly broken by a succession 

 of piercing screams. Something by the 

 lake shore was in agony. What was 

 happening in the darkness? Only death 

 throes could produce such agonizing 

 screams. The wind was blowing di- 

 rectly toward us, and presently an over- 

 powering, sickening odor assailed us. 

 Now all was plain. A great horned owl 

 had found a skunk, that fears nothing 

 but the owl, unless it be a man, and 

 had descended from above on his noise- 

 less pinions. Snatching the victim from 

 the ground, the scythe-like claws had 

 pierced the tender vitals of his prey be- 

 fore poor Mephitis mephitica could bring 

 his anti-aircraft gun to bear upon the 

 terror. The next morning shed more 

 light on the tragedy. The skunk had 

 been digging at the hole in which we 

 had buried the refuse fish heads and en- 

 trails, when the doom of the wild over- 

 took him. Many skunks must fall vic- 

 tims to this owl. A great horned owl 

 that was brought to me many years 

 ago by a friend, I had mounted, though 

 it was so rank with the smell of skunk 

 that the taxidermist protested. Upon 

 what prey the bird had fed was evident. 

 Gradually the scent evaporated, but for 

 a dozen or more years, if the room were 

 closed for a few weeks, the odor could 

 be detected on entering. 



The Mountain. 



With contour etched in softest tones, 



And shining, snowy crest, 

 It floated on blue distances, 



An island of the blest. 



— Emma Peirce. 



Two different prehistoric peoples 

 have left relics in Mammoth Cave, one 

 a tribe of hunters, the other farmers. 



