THE BIRD OF NIGHT 



in a Flicker's hole, in a pine stub, and the bird was so 

 tame that I could have done almost anything with her. 

 She had five incubated eggs on the eighteenth of April. 



However, I did manage to take a picture of a Saw- 

 whet. Three of us were out for a tramp and came to a 

 horse shed at the edge of the woods. It was open, so I 

 looked in, and there sat a tiny Saw-whet Owl on a beam 

 close by. The owl and I were face to face, and we 

 both just stood and stared at each other in blank amaze- 

 ment. Presently I recovered my presence of mind and 

 backed off to get my camera. But the owl likewise 

 came to itself, and, flying across the stable, alighted at 

 a hole in the partition which led into an outer shed 

 which was entirely open on one side. If once it got 

 out there, it was a "goner" for me. 



Seizing my camera and tripod which I had stood up 

 outside the door, in as few words as possible I told 

 Ned what was up and sent him around on the run to 

 keep the Owl from flying through. When he appeared 

 the owl faced backward toward me, seemingly un- 

 decided what to do. Calling to Ned to wait, I planted 

 the camera in the greatest hurry, focused on the bird, 

 and exposed two plates, long-timed, of course, in such a 

 dark place, but fortunately the queer little subject kept 

 quite still. 



Just as this was done, the owl decided to flee from 

 Ned, and came back into the shed. Ned stopped up 

 the hole, and then we all tried to catch Mr. Saw-whet, 

 one of us guarding the entrance, as there was no door. 



7-1 



