74 Musings by Camp-Fire and Wayside 



ran to such excesses of doctrinal savagery as to 

 break the back of credulity, and thus cleared the 

 way for more rational and humane types of religious 

 thought. I will now return to my musing mood, 

 and relate some examples of the tragical in nature 

 which have come under my personal observation. 



I heard an owl as I sat late in my study-cabin, 

 which is secluded and away from the haunts of the 

 campers, and went to the door to look out at the 

 play of the full moonbeams among the trees and on 

 the lake. An owl, in a clump of pines on the main- 

 land, repeated his call, and it was peculiar — never 

 heard an owl hoot that way before. His first note 

 was given with energy, the second was a trill, a 

 shudder of sound, and the third keyed high, after 

 the manner of the great northern owl. I had heard 

 the first and last many a time, but not the second. 

 I was alone, and a little wave of superstition came 

 over the water, like a fresh breeze when one is warm 

 — just a little chilly; but I said: "What a ridicu- 

 lous fellow he is — a bunch of yellow-gray feathers, 

 staring eyes, opening his sickle beak to let out a 

 noise that is out of all proportion to the size and to 

 the inconsequentiality of him; and now his mate 

 has responded, and come to him. Likely enough 

 that owl-talk is a courtship under the witchery of 

 the moon — he can't kiss her, though. He snaps his 

 beak — I suppose that is his way of telling her that 

 she is sweet enough to eat." 



I was about to retire into my cabin, when right 



