Barn Owls 



and mice creep timidly forth, the barn owl, now thoroughly 

 awake, sallies from its hole and does greater execution before 

 morning than all the traps in town. Shrews, bats, frogs, grass- 

 hoppers, and beetles enlarge its bill of fare. A pair of these 

 mousers that had their nest in an old apple tree near a hayrick 

 that concealed the spectator, brought eight mice to their brood in 

 the hollow trunk in less than an hour. 



The head of a mouse, the favorite tid-bit, is devoured first; 

 then follows the body, bolted whole if not too large. One foot 

 usually holds the smaller quarry; but a rat must be firmly grasped 

 with both feet, and torn apart before it is bolted. Since owls 

 swallow skin, bones, and all, these indigestible parts are afterward 

 ejected in pellets. Disturb the owls at their orgy, and they click 

 their bills and hiss in the most successful attempt they ever make 

 to be ferocious. They are not quarrelsome even among them- 

 selves when feeding, and the smallest songster can safely tease 

 them to a point that would goad a less amiable bird to rashness. 

 A querulous, quavering cry frequently repeated, k-r-r-r-r-r-r-ik, 

 suggesting the night jar's call, is sometimes more frequently heard 

 than the wild, peevish scream usually associated with this owl. 



In spite of civilization's tempting offers, a hollow tree has 

 ever remained the favorite home of the barn owl, that nevertheless 

 deserves its name, for barns and other outbuildings on the farm, 

 steeples, and abandoned dove cots become equally dear to it once 

 they have sheltered a brood. A pair of these owls have nested for 

 years in one of the towers of the Smithsonian Institution ; many 

 eggs have been laid directly on roofs of dwellings; some in mining 

 shafts; others in deserted burrows of ground squirrels and other 

 rodents; in fact, all manner of queer sites are chosen. Strictly 

 speaking, the barn owl builds no nest, unless the accumulation of 

 decayed wood, disgorged bones of mice, etc., among which the 

 eggs are dropped, could be honored with such a name. From five 

 to eleven pure dull white eggs, more decidedly pointed than those 

 of most owls, are incubated by both mates, sometimes by both at 

 once, as they sit huddled together through the hours of unwel- 

 come sunshine. They can scarcely multiply too fast. The barn 

 owl does not eat poultry, although it is constantly shot because 

 of an unfounded belief that it does, prevalent among farmers. 

 From an economic standpoint, it would be difficult to name a 

 more valuable bird. 



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