30 THE GLOAMING. 
Their breakfast disposed of, I used to abandon 
my post, and, like the owls, eat and sleep under 
some shady covert. 
As near as possible to the mergence of twilight 
into night—what the Scotch call the ‘ gloaming,’ 
and in our country is known as ‘cock-light’—when 
the woodcock skims through the grove and the 
blackbird chink-chinks his vesper hymn—exactly 
at this time the owls invariably came out; and, as 
if for the purpose of stretching their wings ratlfer 
than feeding, took erratic flights round the tree, 
and up and down the plain, chasing one another, 
and performing all kinds of inexplicable maneu- 
vres. Occasionally they settled on the ground, but 
never remained long. I do not think they ever 
capture an insect whilst it is on the wing, and a 
very small quantity of food appears to satisfy their 
wants. As it became dark, having supplied their 
evening necessities, they again returned to their 
dormitory, and, as I imagine, slept away the night. 
In their habits they appear to have nothing in 
common with the typical owls (Sérigine), and 
approximate, though slightly, to the day-owls 
(Nycteinine). Cassin, in his ‘ Birds of Califor- 
nia,’ calls this owl Glaucidium infuscatum, regard- 
ing it as the Strix infuscata of Temminck. Dr. 
Sclater, however, proposes to call it Glaucidium 
