SCREECH OWL. 
white ground. There are two color-phases of the bird, 
one is warm and ruddy-toned, and the other is cold and 
gray-brown-toned. The beautiful eyes are a topaz yel- 
low. The nest is generally in the hollow of an apple- 
tree, or some other tree not far from a dwelling. The 
eggs are pure white. 
When one considers the character of this Owl’s scng 
in connection with his bill of fare, it is not surprising 
that the former is somewhat indicative of the nature of 
the latter. What with mice, small birds, snakes, and 
frogs as a standard diet, why should not one’s song 
savor of the terrible, and cause the listener’s blood to run 
cold! To be sure that breathless falling of the voice 
seems to denote exhaustion, and the quavering tones ab- 
ject terror, but after all this is pure imagination, for the 
next moment the voice suggests that of an operatic 
singer practising the descending chromatic scale ! What- 
ever the eerie cry seems like, whether the screech of the 
pioneer’s wife as she is scalped by a red-handed Indian 
under the cold rays of an indifferent moon, or the tech- 
nical practice of the ‘‘ prima donna,” one thing is cer- 
tain, all who have ever heard the strange song agree 
that there is something uncanny aboutit! Mr. Chapman 
writes : ‘‘ When night comes one may hear the Screech 
Owl’s tremulous wailing whistle. It is a weird, melan- 
choly call, welcomed only by those who love Nature’s 
voice whatever be the medium through which she 
speaks.” Mr. Ned Dearborn also writes, ‘‘ The uncanny 
cry of a Screech Owl once heard will never be forgotten.” 
On one occasion several summers ago, I was hurriedly 
invited about sundown by one of the members of the 
family, to investigate the nature of a strange voice that 
issued from the border of the woods near the cottage. 
Although I knew the note of the Screech Owl perfectly 
well, this note was less musical and only remotely re- 
sembled it by a curious tremolo: 
Young Owls. 
Tcher-rewhieu! Teher-r-whieu! Teher-r-whiea! 
If 
