A HISTORY OF CERTAIN GREAT HORNED OWLS: 
[With 8 plates.] 
By Cuarites R. Keyes. 
My experiences with great horned owls (Bubo virginianus, espe- 
cially with a pair under my observation for several years, have often 
suggested a contrast and comparison with Mr. Finley’s work on the 
California condor. In several respects our subjects and experiences 
show a certain broad resemblance. Both birds belong to the family 
of birds of prey, the one being the largest of the North American vul- 
tures, the other the greatest of all the owls. The condor has passed 
into legend and literature as the largest bird of fight and the most 
graceful when on the wing; the great horned owl occupies a place no 
less important in legend and literature as the symbol of brooding wis- 
dom and solemn mystery. In both our studies, too, the rare privilege 
was enjoyed of extending our observations over the whole home period 
of the bird’s life, from the eggs in the nest to the young ready for their 
first excursion into the outside world. 
In most respects, however, our stories are as much in contrast as 
they could well be. The condors had their home in one of the wildest 
and most inaccessible of Californian mountain regions; from their nest 
rim the owls could look out upon five farmhouses, with their numerous 
outbuildings, and one schoolhouse, all within a radius of 500 yards, 
and all neighbors of other homesteads and schoolhouses set down 
in the very peaceful and nonmountainous State of Iowa. The con- 
dors, in their wild environment, were tame and well-disposed from the 
first and grew constantly more docile as the study of their home life 
proceeded, proving to be, apparently, the gentlest of all the raptorial 
birds; the great horned owls, with surroundings that would seem to 
teach peace, had bad dispositions to begin with, and these con- 
stantly grew worse, until, after six weeks of suspense and with the 
longest of our claw marks still unhealed, my assistant and I felt a 
sense of relief when the young owls finally took to the tree tops, 
leaving us with fairly whole physiognomies and the feeling that we 
No. 1, January-February, 1911, pp. 5-19. 
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