298 
WILD WINGS 
from within the old shell, that in my surprise I almost fell 
over. An absurd monkeyish face appeared at the entrance, 
and away went the great brown creature that I was in search 
of. Scrambling up, I could just reach the three eggs at the 
bottom of the hollow. They were very dirty, being advanced 
in incubation, and were stained with blood from the claws of 
the predacious bird. 
This enticing nest recently nearly caused the death of a 
friend, an ardent ornithologist, to whom I had revealed the 
owl’s secret. Reaching in to get an egg, he slipped, and, his 
arm becoming wedged in the bottom of the narrow slit, he 
hung there alone for an indehnite period, no one responding 
to his cries for help. Finally the arm became disengaged, 
and he fell exhausted to the ground. 
This pair of owls were always loquacious, and would some¬ 
times “ talk back ” to a human intruder hidden near the nest. 
Our conversations of “ whoo-whoos ” have afforded me the 
rarest amusement. The female was the one glib of tongue, 
and she would launch out on splendid flights of eloquence 
in reply t(^ mv inquiries as “to-whoo” she was and “who’s 
who.” ' 
A favorite haunt of this species is in groves of tall pines. 
In one such grove of about ten acres in the town of Lake¬ 
ville, a pair were for vears domiciled. I first discovered them 
bv hearing of a farmer who the previous vear had discovered 
a large young owl that had fallen from the nest. Under his 
guidance I found the tree, but, as we reached it, I noticed 
another platform of sticks fifty feet up a neighboring pine. 
Two things about it were significant, — a large piece of gray 
down clung to one of the sticks, and from the nest protruded 
a brown stubby thing that I felt sure was the owl’s tail. 
Blows on the trunk of the tree failed to produce any move¬ 
ment above. My companion was sceptical as I began the 
