VOICES OF THE NIGHT 247 



which Tickell has attempted to syllabise as " Kucha, 

 kwachee, kwachee, kwachee, kwachee," uttered as 

 rapidly as the httle owlets' breath will allow of. These 

 noisy punchinellos are most vociferous during moonlit 

 nights, but they are by no means silent in the dark 

 portion of the month. 



Almost as abundant as the spotted owlet is another 

 feathered pigmy — the jungle owlet {Glaiicidium radi- 

 aturn). This species, like the last, calls with splendid 

 vigour. Fortunately for the Anglo-Indian its note is 

 comparatively mellow and musical. It is not alto- 

 gether unlike the noise made by a motor cycle when 

 it is being started, consisting, as it does, of a series of 

 disyllables, low at first with a pause after each, but 

 gradually growing in intensity and succeeding one 

 another more rapidly until the bird seems to have 

 fairly got away, when it pulls up with dramatic abrupt- 

 ness. The best attempt to reduce to writing the call of 

 this bird is that of Tickell : " TnrUick, turtuck, iuriuck, 

 turtuck, turtuck, turtuck, tukatu, chatuckatuckatuck." 

 This owlet calls in the early part of the night and at 

 intervals throughout the period of darkness, and 

 becomes most vociferous just before the approach of 

 " rosj.'-fingered dawTi." 



Very different is the cry of the httle scops owl (Scops 

 giu). This bird has none of that Gladstonian flow of 

 eloquence which characterises the spotted and the 

 jungle owlets. His note is, however, more befitting the 

 dignity of an owl. He speaks only in monosyllables, 

 and gives vent to those wdth great deliberation. He 

 sits on a bough and says " won' " in a soft but decisive 



