292 WILD WINGS 



keenly craves a thorough knowledge of the zvhole avifauna, 

 the success of the owl in eluding him is simply maddening. 

 Indeed it is so hard to find an owl's nest that one would need 

 "hawking" — if for no other reason! — to fill in between 

 times and provide sufficient stimulus to keep one's enthusiasm 

 from flagging. 



Owling differs also from hawking in that each recurring 

 season it ushers in the nesting of the birds, and with it the 

 sport with the raptors begins. The owls are as early as they 

 are hardy. In fact the last of the owls to lay its eggs — the 

 Screech Owl — has done so by about the time that the earliest 

 of the hawks are beginning their family cares. The Great 

 Horned Owl is the first of all the birds to nest. Think of the 

 hardy mother, on an open platform of sticks in some tall tree 

 of a hillside forest, brooding her eggs in February, — some- 

 times even January, — the raging blizzard heaping up the 

 snow around her and on her back, or on the clear, cold nights 

 when the mercury has fallen far below zero ! 



Another difference between these allied sports is one of 

 method. In part, to be sure, the methods of each are iden- 

 tical. But owls are so comparatively scarce that merely to 

 search the woods for them would be very unrewarding. The 

 best clues to their whereabouts are secured through their habit 

 of hooting. One may rest assured that somewhere near any 

 locality where owls are habitually heard to hoot they will nest 

 when the proper time comes, though to find the nest is quite 

 another matter. My habit is to drive or walk out, beginning 

 in January, on mild, muggy afternoons toward dusk, along 

 roads bordering favorable woodland tracts. It is notable that 

 owls are particularly inclined to hoot at dusk, more so as 

 the nesting-season approaches, when there are indications of 

 storm, especially rain. At such times, if there are any owls 

 in the vicinity, the listener is very likely to hear what will 



