THE GREAT HORNED OWL. 61 
their inner webs with dark-fulvous; a black spot above the eye; radiating feathers 
behind the eye, varying in color from nearly white to dark reddish-fulvous, usually 
the latter; feathers of the facial disc tipped with black; throat and neck before, white; 
breast with wide longitudinal stripes of black; other under parts variegated w'th 
white and fulyous, and every feather haying transverse, narrow lines of dark-brown, 
middle of the abdomen frequently. but not always, white; legs and toes varying 
from white to dark-fulvous, usually pale-fulvous; in most specimens unspotted, but 
frequently, and probably always in fully mature specimens, with transverse, narrow 
bars of dark-brown; quills brown, with wide transverse bands of cinereous, and 
usually tinged on the inner webs with pale fulvous; tail the same, with the fulyous 
predominating on the outer feathers; iris yellow; bill and claws bluish-black. 
Dimensions. — Female, length, twenty-one to twenty-five inches; wing, fourteen 
and a half to sixteen; tail, ten inches. Male, eighteen to twenty-one inches; wing, 
fourteen to fifteen; tail, nine inches. 
HIS well-known bird is a resident in all the New-England 
States throughout the year. It is not so common in Mas- 
sachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island as in the other 
States, where, in the vast tracts of forest, it is quite abun- 
dant; so much so, that I have heard several of them at the 
same time making “ night hideous with their discordant, 
mournful cries.”” Never shall I forget a serenade I once had 
the pleasure of hearing in the State of Maine, in which this 
bird maintained the basso. We were encamped on the 
shores of Lake Umbagog: our tent was pitched on a bluff 
overlooking the lake, and behind us was the deep, dark 
forest of pines and hemlocks. We had just got fairly into 
our first nap, the sweet follower of our day’s toils, when we 
were awakened by the hootings of one of these owls, “ Waugh, 
hoo, hoo, hoo!”’ or ** Who cooks for you?” as the Western 
traveller understood it, which seemed to be addressed to us 
from a tree almost over our tent. We listened: presently 
another took up the theme, and then both together. They 
had scarcely finished their duet, when, from away up the 
lake, came the shrill, mournful ery or scream of the Loon: 
this was continued and answered by others, until, with owls 
and loons, the night was vocal with melodious sounds. 
- After this had died away, and all was still, there came from 
a bush near our tent the almost heavenly song of the White- 
throated Sparrow, the “ Nightingale of the North.” One 
