A Few Feathered Fiends. 235 



ally stood in a corner of the room with its face to 

 the wall, but if forced away, would sprawl on the 

 floor and extend its wings, as if trying to conceal 

 itself by blending with the colors of the carpet, 

 and similar tactics are no doubt adopted by the 

 wild bird, for in localities where we are positive 

 that they are plentiful it is at times impossible to 

 find them ; yet later, in the gloaming, they suddenly 

 appear, and fly to and fro, bat-like, over the very 

 ground that had been previously carefully examined. 

 Usually, in the marshes, they fly just above the vege- 

 tation, but in such a quiet and erratic way that one 

 can scarcely distinguish them. In winter, particu- 

 larly, they frequent the upland fields, and it is rather 

 startling, while walking across lots after sunset, to 

 have one of these birds flap its broad wings directly 

 in front of you and then go bouncing off in an ab- 

 surd way ; one moment lost to view, when near the 

 ground, and then looming up larger than life as it 

 flies between you and the faint, flickering light of 

 the sunset sky. 



Barred owls were common enough in the days of 

 our grandfathers, but the encroachments of towns 

 and the cutting up of farms into truck patches 

 have caused these, like all the larger and more con- 

 spicuous birds, to withdraw into wilder regions. Yet 

 they do appear at times. Following the river, they 

 have nature beneath them as they fly, and avoid 

 towns by taking zigzag courses. Here and there, 

 principally along our creeks, a few sad remnants of 

 primitive glory still remain, and amid these they 



