^/|/| Birds of the Great Glen. [Sess. 



wliich there are several versions, lingers around this hill, 

 perhaps as veracious as the most of similar tales, of some 

 young lady who either was or was not in love, it does not 

 matter much either way, who preferred to make her bed on 

 the rough rock face to sleeping more comfortably in the glen 

 below. The ledge upon which she reclined is pointed out, 

 but only the most romantic and quixotic imagination could 

 believe that it was possible for any human being, far less a 

 lady, to repose in such an inaccessible, not to say draughty 

 situation. The barn-owl is now so scarce, that a visitor 

 might almost be excused for inferring that its existence was 

 as mythical as the female with the peculiar notions about 

 sleeping, accommodation. This owl makes at times a hideous 

 screech, somewhat trying to the nerves when passing along 

 a dark tree-skirted road, and in the days of superstition many 

 evil omens were construed out of its weird-like cry. I must 

 candidly confess not to have been altogether free from those 

 myself when a boy of eleven or twelve years old, having ex- 

 perienced the greatest fright that ever occurred in my life 

 from one of those nocturnal gentry, when sent upon some 

 pressing errand late at night along one of the blackest roads 

 in this very glen. The tawny owl is common pretty well all 

 over the wooded parts, in despite of pole-traps and other 

 engines of destruction, and on the still calm nights of autumn 

 their melancholy hooting can be heard for miles around. 

 Some people dislike this sound, but to my mind there is a 

 peculiar charm attaching to its eerie call that accords admir- 

 ably with the appropriate surroundings. A not unfrequent 

 resting-place during the day is the clump of alder already 

 mentioned as growing in the Urquhart Bay, but they are 

 oftener to be met with in a long expanse of forest that covers 

 part of the southern slopes of the strath. The other owl 

 supposed to have been identified is the snowy species. The 

 sole authority for its existence is a friend of mine whose 

 general accuracy of statement on ornithological matters there 

 is no reason to impugn, but in this particular instance he 

 may have been mistaken. He says that when passing through 

 a very wild part of Abriachan a white owl of unusual size 

 started out of a tree and glided quickly into a dense thicket 

 out of sight, and that he had no doubt whatever that it must 



