400 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1911. 
A further word should be added on the behavior of the adult birds 
during the first season. With two of us at the nest their demonstra- 
tions, although energetic enough, never proved dangerous. Both 
birds merely came near, flying back and forth at distances varying 
from 30 to 100 feet, snapping their mandibles, ruffling their feathers, 
and hooting out vigorous protests. It was different when one person 
was at the nest alone. On April 28 I had arrived at the old elm 
about 20 minutes ahead of Mr. Burge and, standing on the next to 
the top round of a 20-foot ladder, was making some examination of 
the young and the other contents of the nest cavity. The ladder 
necessarily stood as nearly vertical as possible to reach the cavity at 
all and, as the big tree was about 5 feet in diameter just below the 
hollow, the hold was none too secure. Fortunately a small hori- 
zontal branch shot out from the heavy trunk on the northeast side 
and against this the top 3 inches of the ladder found some support. 
Without this I dislike to think what might have happened when that 
stunning blow came in from the south quarter. It was absolutely 
unexpected and so violent as to leave the left side of my head 
quite numb. With my hand I discovered that blood was running 
down my cheek and a quick glance around showed my assailant step- 
ping up and down on a nearby limb and clearly ready to come again. 
Under the circumstances I slid down the ladder to firmer vantage 
ground. The slash, which began on the left cheek and ran across 
the left ear, was rather ugly but not dangerous. Considering the 
eight claws of a great horned owl, each 1} inches in length, I had 
gotten off easily. Evidently only one claw had taken effect, the 
curvature of the great tree trunk and my clinging position over the 
nest rim having given, doubtless, some protection. The numbness 
was probably caused by the stroke of a rushing wing. 
When on May 9 I was again compelled to visit fhe nest alone I 
knew what to expect and so was constantly on my guard. About 3 
seconds’ study of the young birds and nest contents was alternated 
with about the same amount of scrutiny of the immediate horizon. 
In this way it was possible to define an adult owl’s manner of attack. 
Three times on this occasion one of the birds flew in from a neigh- 
boring tree and with strong stroke of wing came straight at my 
head. It was not at all the stoop of hawk or falcon, but rather 
the onrush of a heavy projectile with a very flat trajectory. Like a 
large projectile, too, the flight was visible and so all the more disconcert- 
ing; unlike a projectile, it was noiseless as a flying shadow. Audubon 
speaks of the hunting flight of the great horned owl as possessing 
incomparable velocity and, kind reader, I am quite ready to agree 
with him. The big bird, perched on a branch from 30 to 50- feet 
away, first shifts nervously from one foot to the other, then launches 
swiftly into space. There is just time to brace oneself a little, swing 
