THE BIRD OF NIGHT 



amongst her hungry young, who were moving about 

 actively, each ready for its share. This took two or 

 three minutes, and they all settled down as before. It 

 was fairly maddening not to have light for a snapshot 

 of the six owls as the mouse was being delivered over. 

 And now, as there seemed to be no prospect of any- 

 thing better, I made several exposures on the old owl 

 incubating, and on the young, before I removed the 

 camera, all of which proved to be blurred by the swaying 

 of the trees. 



The next morning was clear and cold and I was 

 there at five o'clock, but the old owl would not return 

 to the nest in the time at my disposal. My chum at 

 length came and fairly dragged me away. We had to 

 drive thirty miles to take a train to a point further 

 south. A week later we returned and the first thing I 

 did was to visit the owls. The nest was empty, alas. 

 But, as the old owl was "yowling" about, I made 

 search and found the youngsters roosting in the trees 

 within a radius of ten rods. As long as they were not 

 handled they remained in their "hiding pose," motion- 

 less, erect, feathers drawn tightly together, making 

 themselves look like dead stubs and blending wonder- 

 fully with their surroundings. I took various pictures 

 of them in the hiding places, as well as when replaced 

 in the nest. The old bird was still rather aggressively 

 inclined, yet it was very hard to get her picture. Finally 

 I noticed that she often alighted upon a dead treetop 

 before swooping. So I rigged my cumbersome tele- 



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