326 
WILD WINGS 
a warninof caw as it saw us, and away they all went. The 
owl sat upon her nest, forty feet from the ground, stolidly 
gazing down at the approaching company, making no move 
as we surrounded the tree, and as I took photographs of her 
from the ground. 
The question then was as to how near her she would let 
me climb with the camera. Examining the surrounding trees, 
I selected a black birch about eighteen feet away,—south, 
toward the light, — and likely to afford the best opportunity. 
The climbers were buckled on, camera strapped over the 
shoulder, and I began the ascent, quietly, pausing now and 
then to see if the owl was getting alarmed. She had been 
facing east, but now she turned her head sidewise toward me, 
her body crouched down into the nest as far as possible. It 
was a shrinking attitude, and typical of all owls’ attempts 
at concealment, — the feathers drawn closely together so as 
to look as small as possible, the eyes closed all but a mere 
slit, the ear-tufts erect, like snags of bark. 
As she did not move, I kept on till I was upon a level with 
the nest. Now, would she let me work and rig the camera ? 
Everything was favorable except one small Iwanch in the 
way; I must try to remove it. \Trv slowly I reached out 
my hand. The owl shrank back a trifle. Taking the twig, 
I snapped it as softly and gently as I could. The noise was 
but slight, yet the owl gave a nervous start, and almost de¬ 
cided to fly. Keeping j^erfectly still, I did not even withdraw 
my hand for a couple of minutes, till she seemed reassured. 
Then I began operations, cautiously and with deliberation in 
every movement, driving the screw-bolt into the limb, taking 
my camera from the case, ojiening it, clamping it to the bolt, 
adjusting it and focusing under the cloth, —using only the 
front lens of my doublet, to secure a larger image. A branch 
was in the way from this spot, so I had to undo everything. 
