THE TAWNY OWL, 281 



leaving the nest hermetically sealed in the bole of the tree. A 

 thousand people might gaze on this tree in passing by, and still not 

 see a blemish. I myself can just perceive it, by means of a few- 

 concentrated lines still visible on the bark ; but, had not the dis- 

 covery of the nest drawn my attention to the place, I should never 

 have perceived that the eastern part of the tree had formerly received 

 an injury. Mr. Ord was enraptured at the exposition of the orni- 

 thological treasure, and noted down in his pocket-book everything 

 worthy of record. The tree still stands ; and long may it stand, to 

 gratify the curiosity of naturalists. Last year a pair of barn owls 

 reared their young in it, and just now there are eggs in the same 

 place. I made another excavation, in an ash tree about two hundred 

 yards from this ; and, last summer, it gave me an increase of three 

 tawny owls. Throughout the winter, I could at any time find them 

 reposing in some neighbouring fir trees. The tawny owl generally 

 lays four snow-white eggs in the same hole which it had chosen for 

 its winter quarters. I am satisfied in my own mind that no owl in 

 the world ever gathers materials to form the lining of its nest. In- 

 deed, there is no necessity whatever for it to take that trouble ; nature 

 makes a sufficient provision for the lining of the hole to which the owl 

 resorts, long before the breeding-time sets in. Every species of this 

 bird ejects from the stomach all the indigestible parts of the food, in 

 the shape of a dark-coloured oblong bolus, which, when dried, is soon 

 reduced to fragments by the superincumbent body of the bird. On 

 this the female lays her eggs ; nor could she well procure a better or 

 a softer substance for them. 



Trifling as an attention to the feather tribe may seem, still it has 

 its sweets for those who love to lead a rural life. I generally observe 

 that visitors who come here are always anxious to have a sight oi 

 the birds which take up their abode in this sequestered valley ; and 

 they listen with evident signs of pleasure to the cries of the nocturnal 

 wanderers of the air. It is not above a week ago that I heard the 

 heron screaming, the wigeon whistling, the barn owl screeching, and 

 the tawny owl hooting, in rapid succession. The moon was playing 

 on the water at the time, and the air was nearly as warm as summer. 

 I thought of times long past and gone, when I was enjoying nature's 

 richest scenery in the interminable forests of Guiana. 



