The Interesting Barn Owl 95 



of mind, so I carried them out by the wing tips — the only satisfactory way 

 I found of handling such a brambly article — and later made them stand in 

 the hght for a photograph — a difficult matter, because they ran with all speed 

 for the wood-pile as soon as released. Just as I thought I had them, after 

 many attempts, one mistook the other for a foe, and, without preliminaries, 

 went for him. However, the other one met the rush feet first and seized the 

 attacking claws before they hit, practically holding down his brother by each 

 foot while he glared into his face in comical fashion, and hissed for all he was 

 worth. This holding hands continued with much comical shaking of heads, 

 until both birds suddenly struck at each other somewhat as roosters do; then 

 they held hands again until separated and put into a deep open-top box for 

 safe-keeping. If left free, dogs, cats, or opossums would most likely have found 

 them through the strong odor so noticeable about young birds of prey. The 

 mice were, however, first cut into pieces and thrust down the apparently hungry 

 birds' throats, while each was held by his feet and neck. 



Every night after that the youngsters were visited and fed by the devoted 

 old ones, and always it was with mice of some kind or moles — principally 

 meadow mice, house mice, white-footed mice, shrews and ground moles — as 

 many as eight sometimes, as shown by the disgorged pellets or uneaten bodies. 



The parents also scrupulously cleaned the old box each night. They lived 

 in the hemlock wood across the narrow valley, but in what tree I could not 

 discover. One would appear soon after sunset with some kind of mouse, and 

 by eleven o'clock had apparently satisfied the youngsters' hunger, for the rasp- 

 ing cries would usually cease and an occasional louder and clearer cry of the 

 old birds pierce the darkness. 



One fine morning found the youngsters gone. Day after day they had tried 

 to jump out of the box, each time coming a little closer to the edge. After this 

 they could be heard calling in the evenings, and sometimes until dawn. Always 

 in the wood, they perched high up side by side or on nearby limbs, and lazily 

 relied on their parents to keep up the good work of providing mice. On dark 

 nights they called much longer than on moonlight nights, which convinced me 

 that the hunting was more difficult then. 



Occasionally a parent could be seen standing always very erect on the 

 barn gable overlooking a truck-garden, but usually it would watch from a tree 

 in the marshy meadows, now and then dropping to the ground and staying 

 there a considerable time as if hunting on foot among the grass clumps, a 

 method which, from the great agility of the young when pursued on the ground 

 and in the brush piles, I can well imagine no cat could improve on. 



I tried without success to draw them by imitating their strange cry, and 

 also a mouse's squeak made by sucking loudly on the back of the hand. A 

 Screech Owl and many wild animals would take instant notice of the latter, 

 but not the Barn Owls. Even a rat caught in a trap failed to entice these birds, 

 though several Screech Owls responded at once. 



