Barn Owls Nesting in New York City 225 



food and looking in without entering. In the branches of the tree she perched 

 silently, and seemed to have lost heart in everything. On May 26, I opened 

 the door, only to find the six nestlings dead. For three days there had been a 

 cold rain, and the tender young needed the mother's body to keep them warm; 

 but she could not both brood them and feed them. She chose the latter, but 

 they succumbed to the cold and damp. 



What happened to the male bird I cannot tell. Some careless person may 

 have killed it thoughtlessly, just to see how well he could shoot, never sus- 

 pecting that in killing this one bird he was killing seven. In our home there 

 could not have been more sincere sorrow if our pet cat or favorite dog were 

 dead. But next year we are hoping to rent our Chickadee home to another 

 pair, and this time to raise the brood successfully. 



Barn Owls Nesting in New York City 



By HOWARD H. CLEAVES, Staten Island. N. Y. 



With photographs by the author 



A WESTERN reader of Bird-Lore, who does not know exactly what 

 territory New York City embraces, might think it impossible, or 

 at least improbable, that a pair of Barn Owls could be found nestmg 

 within the limits of the great metropohs. He might be equally surprised to 

 learn that a Wood Duck reared a brood there not more than four seasons ago, 

 and that Woodcock still nest there in considerable numbers. His amazement 

 might be almost as great if he were told that Barred Owls, Red-shouldered 

 Hawks, Killdeers, Blue-winged Warblers and Hummingbirds also find it 

 congenial to build their nests there. But this delightful state of affairs could 

 easily be made clear by explaining that semi-rural Staten Island is a part of 

 the City of New York. 



Had it not been for Mr. William T. Davis, our only pair of Barn Owls on 

 Staten Island might have passed unnoticed, officially. He had known a farmer 

 on the southern shore of the island for many years, and used to have the man 

 report to him when the Barn Swallows had arrived each spring. One year, 

 Mr. Davis was told by his friend of strange sounds that had been heard near 

 the barn at night, and, from the description, it was concluded that the noise 

 must have been made by an Owl. Investigation proved that not only was it 

 an Owl, but that it was a Barn Owl, and that the bird and its mate occupied 

 an old pigeon-cote at one corner of the main barn. 



At a meeting of the Staten Island Association of Arts and Sciences, held 

 November 17, 1906, Mr. Davis read a paper on these Owls, in which he said: 

 "On the fifteenth of last September, I climbed as silently as I could to the 

 pigeon-loft, but the Owls heard me coming and flew to the neighboring trees. 



