394 STRIX FLAMMEA. 



not understood. " No bird," says Mr Slaney, " attacks 

 the owl, in the day-time, with greater fierceness than 

 our blue titmouse ; buffeting* its venerable adversary, 

 erecting its feathers, screaming for aid, and in every 

 way expressing its impotent rage." 



Towards night, when the shades of darkness begin 

 to envelope the earth, and the nocturnal quadrupeds 

 and insects come abroad, when the bat on leathern wing 

 flutters over the stream, or wends his winding way 

 along the avenue, the barn owl, roused by hunger, and 

 glad to embrace the earliest opportunity of stretching 

 his downy wings, leaves his roost, and proceeds with 

 slow and silent flight over the fields and meadows. 

 Now, like a meteor he sweeps over head ; but although 

 not ten yards distant, no sound is heard from his pin- 

 ions. Mark his progress as he speeds along on out- 

 spread wings, now moving with regular flappings, now 

 sailing along in a direct line, and now curving with in- 

 clined body. See, an object has attracted his notice, 

 and he hovers over the bank. Down he drops in an 

 instant, and having doubtless clutched some unlucky 

 mouse, off he goes rejoicing. You hear his shrill hoarse 

 scream, but now the darkness hides him from your 

 sight, and when we fall in with him again he will pro- 

 bably be found prowling over the farm-yard, or around 

 the buildings. 



In the fields, and along the hedges, it procures mice, 

 shrews, and sometimes small birds. In the stomach of 

 one from Peterhead, presented to me by my friend 

 Mr Alexander Brand, in May 1835, I found besides 

 tlie usual mass of hair enclosing numerous bones of 

 glires, including several skulls, the entire skull of a 



