WILD WINGS 
316 
The time came when, becoming more skilled in the hand¬ 
ling of the camera, I determined, if it were possible, to photo- 
graj^h the wary owl on or by her nest, and attain the crown¬ 
ing triumph of camera-hunting, in the mastering of difficulties 
almost insuperable. The first thing was to find a nest, but 
it seemed that I must suffer defeat at this initial stage. After 
many long, hard tramps I found one, about the middle of April. 
It was in a lofty fork of a very tall chestnut tree, as usual, an 
old nest of the Red-tail, which had nearly all crumbled away, 
leaving only a very precarious jDerch for the one owlet of con¬ 
siderable size and its most wary mother. The latter was so 
exceedingly shy that it was only with the greatest difficulty 
that I could come even within sight of the nest before she 
flew. Nor would she return as long as I remained anywhere 
in the vicinity. The case was absolutely hopeless. 
It took four years’ tramping to find another nest of the 
Great Horned Owl. Then, on the ninth of March, a rainy day, 
I started to explore a large wild timber-tract on the sides 
and top of a mountain in western Connecticut where owls 
had been heard to hoot. Year after year I had climbed and 
tramped this mountain in vain, so that I had no especial hope 
of success. About halfway up, growing at the foot of a rather 
steep ledge, was a massive rock oak, in a fork of which, about 
sixty feet up, had been for years a large hawks’ nest, which 
I always examined. The season before, a pair of Red-tails 
had occupied it. I visited it this time, on the way, as a matter 
of course. 
As I caught sight of the nest through the trees, my heart 
gave an exultant bound. It had evidently been rebuilt, and 
two knobs projected from it, outlined against the sky. They 
were the ear-tufts of a Great Horned Owl! I was at least 
two gunshots from the nest, but the big owl saw me, and 
stood up, ready to fly. To ])hotograph in the rain, was, of 
