BIRDS OF WOODLAND AND HEDGEROW. i8i 



pressing circumstance, the nightingales were 

 singing as bhthely as if they had been exercising 

 their marvellous vocal powers under the most 

 cheerful conditions. 



The power of vision in birds is very wonderful. 

 Owls can make far more use of even the rays of 

 a noontide sun than is generally supposed. One 

 day I found a tawny owl sitting on two eggs in 

 an old carrion crow's nest which had been built 

 in a small ivy-encumbered ash-tree growing on 

 a steep hillside. I opened the place out, so as 

 to obtain a good view of the nest and its contents 

 from an advantageous point on the precipitous 

 bank above, and left. Next day the sun shone 

 brilliantly, and, fondly imagining that I had 

 nothing to do but go and photograph the owl 

 sitting with her eyes closed, I sallied forth. To 

 my surprise, the bird took her departure directly 

 I commenced operations. Determined to give her 

 a fair trial, however, I fixed up the camera, 

 focussed the nest, put a plate in, and attaching 

 the longest piece of pneumatic tubing in my 

 possession, dragged it up the steep hillside, and 

 then went into hiding under an overhanging 

 crag ten or a dozen yards beyond. 



I could tell exactly where the owl was located 

 in the wood from the chivvying and scolding of 

 the blackbirds and chaffinches, and by-and-bye 

 heard her uttering that rather peewit-like cry 



