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 Dot dangerous. Considering the 

 eight claws of a great horned owl, each 1J 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 die nest alone I 

 knew what to expect and so was constantly oil 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 



