114 MEMOIRS OF THE NUTTALL ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB 



myself have had the privilege of seeing Snowy Owls five times at Ipswich and 

 once at Milk Island off Cape Ann. 



On November 5, 1905, Dr. G. M. Allen and I saw a Snowy Owl sitting on a 

 sand dune at Ipswich with body inclined at the usual angle of about 45 degrees. 

 It was a handsomely marked bird with white face, dark gray crown and nape and 

 with diagonal rows of black spots on its back. By walking diagonally toward it 

 we were able to approach within seventy yards. Its eyes were narrow slits and 

 after watching us for a few minutes with one eye it would quickly turn its head 

 and watch us with the other eye. Horned Larks fed undisturbed within thirty 

 yards of it. When we crouched and attempted to crawl straight toward the owl 

 it at once rose and flew off with broad slow sweeps of its wings and with feet 

 stretched out behind. After sailing for a distance it again alighted, throwing out 

 its feet in front. This time by stalking behind dunes we were able to approach 

 within twenty-two yards. 



A dark bird seen on February 11, 1906, looked like a gray stump on the top 

 of a dune at a distance of nearly a mile. This bird flew away alternately sailing 

 and flapping close to the ground. 



A very white bird was seen on March 14, 1909, sitting on a rock on Milk 

 Island. There were several Crows about it on the rocks, some within three or 

 four yards. The owl was evidently on the alert and at times sat nearly erect. 

 As we approached it flew off toward the mainland pursued by Crows who occa- 

 sionally flew down on it from above. The owl pursued its way undisturbed, 

 flying directly with steady slow flappings of its great wings. The island was full 

 of the signs of rats. 



The bird seen on January 17, 1913, at Ipswich, was a dark bird, that, dis- 

 turbed from a dune-top, rose in the strong wind and poised motionless like a kite, 

 with the tips of its primaries bent up. As it sailed about, it would occasionally 

 stretch its neck and lift its great round head above the level of the back and look 

 about. Later it skirmished for prey low over the beach-grass where it alternately 

 sailed and flapped. 



On December 21, 1913, I watched a dark Snowy Owl in the dunes that was 

 being mobbed by a large flock of Snow Buntings that swirled about it and darted 

 down toward it, as it sat on a dune-top. On March 9, 1918, my son Charles saw 

 a Snowy Owl at Ipswich. 



On November 17, 1918, I found a dead Snowy Owl in rather dark plumage 

 thrown up by the waves at Ipswich Beach. The bird had been shot and the skin 

 is now in the collection of the Boston Society of Natural History. 



On December 16 of the same year, I saw from my house a dark Snowy Owl 

 flying by alternate flappings and sailings high over the salt-marsh. The bird 



