222 AN EVENING REVELLER 



species, and in the coming centuries the grey Screech- 

 owls may separate themselves from their brown 

 brethren, refuse to intermarry, and take on some 

 distinctive forms and characteristics* Although 

 specimens are found of intermediate colouring, the 

 tendency is toward the two distinctive types* It is 

 the accurate sameness, and not the variation in species, 

 that is yet to be explained* 



With the closing in of night the Screech-owl shakes 

 off the lethargy of the day and rouses into open-eyed 

 wakefulness. Then the trembling, plaintive call that 

 his friends will linger in the night to hear fills the 

 still, pyramidal Cedars and floats away into the cloud- 

 like branches of the Pines. He starts across the open 

 space, his straight course outlined against the sky, 

 and the vigorous, rapid fluttering of his wings 

 strangely silent. His predatory nature is now awake, 

 and the eyes that blinked in the darling sunlight are 

 strained to discern any unfortunate bird or mouse 

 that chances in his vicinity. Again and again his 

 plaintive tremolo fills the woods. There are some 

 who shudder at its weird sadness, and hasten from 

 it to the sustaining companionship of artificial lights. 

 But the long, trembling note is music to the ear of 

 understanding. Its very weirdness brings a satis- 

 faction in the still evening. It is the voice of the 

 forest whispering to the stars. 



