Montclair kingbird became fiercer than ever. 
He did not molest the robins and other small 
birds of the neighborhood; but just let a crow 
or hawk or other large intruder appear in the 
neighborhood and away he would dash to give 
battle. He always returned twittering exult- 
antly, which is the way a kingbird has of brag- 
ging when he feels he has done something really 
worth while. 
One bird, however, he feared to the very bot- 
tom of his little red heart, and that was a screech 
owl that lived in the old apple orchard, It slept 
by day in a hollow of one of the trees not fifty 
feet away, and only came out at night. He sel- 
dom saw this terrible enemy with its long, sharp 
claws and big yellow eyes; but he often heard it 
when all the world was dark. Then he would 
crouch on his perch and keep very still. The 
long-drawn quivering cry of this terror of small 
birds is one of the most dreaded sounds that 
can be imagined. No wonder few birds have 
the courage to sing at night. Sometimes the 
kingbird would catch sight of it as, in the twi- 
light, it flew noiselessly as a shadow from tree 
35 
