With Asio in the Greenwood 



287 



I raised my field glass — probaljly lcelin<,^ loo conspicuous -she Hew to a branch 

 in the dense top of a large oak. 



After sitting there for a time, her calls grew less excited, softer, as if she 

 were thinking of (luieling the Owlets in the nest, and finally there came such 

 a sleepy wuk-wuk-wuk-wuk that the old Owl seemed just dropping off for 

 an afternoon nap. How quiet and peaceful it was there in the green woods, 

 with the old Owl softly crooning to her brood! And how comforting it was 

 to be allowed to sit there unmolested in sight of the nest, when out in the 

 open the Marsh Hawks whose nest I was watching were treating me as a 



LONG-EARED OWL 

 Photographed by H. W. Nash, Pueblo, 



Kingbird does a Crow. Imagine the Hawks going to sleep while I was in sight! 

 When I was beginning to feel like one of the family, my campstool creaked, and 

 the old Owl, whom I had supposed dozing, instantly turned her head and craned 

 her neck — the picture of alertness. She was not worrying about me, though. 

 The next moment, to my great astonishment, she darted to the ground as 

 swiftly as a Kingfisher dives for a fish he has been carefully locating from 

 above. A shriek — and then a silence! Up she flew, surrounded by a noisy 

 mob of Bronzed Crackles, three Orioles and a Blue Jay. When the excitement 

 had subsided a little, the Blue Jay flew off with a sad reflective cry. Such 

 conduct does not look well — in another — especially if you ha\-e a callow 



