128 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
To their enemies, however, these beautiful birds 
are neither gentle nor confiding. Last June, as I 
was watching a chestnut-sided warbler from the 
undergrowth near a vireo’s nest, I heard a great 
commotion among the thrushes and vireos, and 
hurried out of the cover to see what was the trouble. 
I heard a low complaining croon from one of the 
vireos, and looking up saw, to my surprise, a 
gray screech owl flying blindly about among the 
branches. After a little he stumbled upon a dead 
limb and sat down, trying to feel at home. But 
the vireos were crying ominously kray, krec-kree- 
kree-kree, and when he thought how they had 
darted down and snapped their bills at him as he 
came along, he edged uneasily over the branch. 
Just then my dog came running noisily through 
the dead leaves under the tree. What could be 
coming next! The scared, awkward owl turned 
his head over to one side and strained his big eyes 
to see. His ears stood up, and his pupils grew 
bigger and bigger with fright. He looked like a 
ereat booby entrapped by a practical joke. But 
this was too serious. What with a dozen vireos 
and thrushes threatening him, some wild animal 
or other rushing about at the foot of the tree, — 
and the pair of big glass eyes almost as large as 
his own, through which another mysterious object 
“was menacing him. No owl could bear it! Away 
he flew, as fast as his blundering wings could flap, 
followed by the angry vireos, who saw him well 
