MONTANA HORNED OWL 355 



He says also that the early date of nesting, and the quiet and retiring 

 ways of the birds at that period, probably account "for the way in 

 which these birds withstand constant persecution, not only from 

 hunters but from ranchmen as well, for every farmer seems to feel it a 

 solemn duty to do his share toward exterminating the entire owl 

 family." 



Behavior. — I found these owls in all parts of Montana and Wyoming 

 from the lowest elevations up to at least 8,000 feet above sea level, 

 but much commoner in the lowlands. At night they are apt to come 

 out into the open valleys and meadows; but during daylight they 

 usually keep more or less concealed in the thick foliage of lodgepole 

 pine, limber pine, fir, spruce, cottonwoods, or aspen groves. They 

 are, therefore, never far from wooded regions in daytime unless there 

 are caves to hide in. During daylight they are apt to perch on limbs 

 close to the trunks of the trees ; but at dusk, I see more of them perched 

 on isolated dead trees, dead stubs, or telephone poles. I have also 

 seen them, on cloudy days, perched momentarily on low sage bushes, 

 or even at times on the ground of grassy knolls. Of course, I have 

 seen still more of these birds at night; but on at least one occasion 

 I saw one flying just above the forest trees, in the bright sunlight. 



Once I saw a pigeon hawk, a western red-tailed hawk, and a Mon- 

 tana horned owl all in the same dense thicket; but I never could find 

 out why they were together. At one of my camps a horned owl, a 

 short-eared owl, and a screech owl came flying about camp at 

 different times the same evening, but they did not appear together 

 at any time. 



In Yellowstone Park these horned owls seem actually to like the 

 hot-spring and geyser areas. I often saw them in the forest covering 

 the old part of the hot-spring formation at Mammoth, apparently 

 living there at all seasons. Possibly this was due to the trees there 

 being very thick and heavy and having good nest sites. Also, there 

 were large numbers of ground squirrels, mice, and young rabbits 

 nearby. On August 8, 1927, I found an owl roost in a grove of thick 

 trees on the river bank half a mile below the Sentinel Geyser at the 

 lower edge of the world-renowned Upper Geyser Basin. 



Although the birds generally threatened me when near the nest, 

 they were usually silent when they really meant to attack. Then they 

 dived with a swift, sure rush that was deadly in its silent power. 

 When they struck, the blow from their fist was painful and their 

 claws would cut through all but the heaviest padding. Once I found 

 two coats, a heavy sweater, a vest, and two heavy woolen shirts too 

 light, and the owls drew blood from my neck and shoulder. After 

 delivering a blow, the attacking owl would continue its swift, level 

 flight beyond me for a hundred feet before swinging to the left and 

 upward to return for another attack. Both the males and the 

 females delivered these blows, but I thought the larger's attack, and 



