iBirli-tore 



A BI-MONTHLY MAGAZINl'; 

 DEVOTED TO THE STUDY AND PROTECTION OK 

 Official Organ of The Audubon Societies 



Vol. XV September— October, 1913 No. 5 



With Asio in the Greenwood 



By FLORENCE MERRIAM BAILEY 



10NG-EARED Owls surely do not come under the head of i)rairie birds, 

 but the large lakes of North Dakota have partial borders of hardwood 

 that add many species to a fauna that might more appropriately be 

 dominated by Prairie Chickens. Stump Lake, formerly a part of the great 

 Devil's Lake chain, has such a hardwood border, furnishing goodly cover 

 within easy reach of the small mammals that abound on the prairie; a cir- 

 cumstance that is taken advantage of by many families of both Hawks and 

 Owls. 



Among these, a pair of Long-eared Owls made their home in this timber 

 last year, only a few rods from the farmhouse where I was staying. And now 

 as I think back over long days spent on the open shore of the lake watching 

 Ducks and Gulls, and wandering over sunlit prairies watching for 'Chickens/ 

 the memory of that Owl's nest brings all the refreshment of cool, green woods 

 in midsummer, and the intimate delights of quiet hours passed within the 

 charmed family circle of Asio, one of the quaintest of Owl personalities. 



Only one of the parent birds was ever seen at a time, and, as the two cannot 

 be distinguished by plumage, there was always a question. Was it the father 

 or was it the mother guarding the nest? Aggravating as it was, the chief 

 charm of these Birds of Wisdom is that they do leave something to the im- 

 agination — sphinxes by day, shadows by night. 



A dolorous appearance Asio presented when first seen standing on the 

 edge of her black stick-nest — let us say her, for convenience — long ears erect, 

 brown body bedraggled by rain; and great yellow eyes staring down with 

 horror upon the invader of her home. When the invader looked away a mo- 

 ment, the invaded improved the opportunity to vanish. She may have flown, 

 she may have flattened herself down in the nest — an odd trick she had, as I 

 discovered later; the wide crotch in which the nest was placed helping to make 

 her invisible from the foot of the oak, twenty feet below. At all events, one 

 whitish downy Owlet was the only visible member of the family. 



Another time, when a dog that was roaming around under the tree 



