OUR WINTER BIRDS. 131 



in the pursuit of such meadow-mice and other animals as 

 are imprudent enough to step out of their subnivean gal- 

 leries, or in the capture of weaker birds. The few late 

 fish-hawks remain by the sea-shore, plunging in now and 

 then for their finny prey, which the bald eagle very often 

 compels them to relinquish to him. The golden eagle, cov- 

 ering the landscape with keen and comprehensive glance 

 as he sweeps over in vast circuits, swoops upon hares, foxes, 

 and the like, sometimes even picking up an early lamb, or 

 catching a grouse before it can baffle its dreaded pursuer 

 by burying itself in the snow. The buzzard and marsh- 

 hawk sail low over the meadows in slow and easy flight, or 

 stand motionless above some elevated spot in the lowlands, 

 watching intently until a mole, or shrew, or mouse, shows 

 itself below, when they drop upon it like a shot, and carry 

 it off before the poor victim has time to recover from its 

 palsy of terror. Less frequently do these species seem to 

 catch birds, and between Christmas and Easter they lead a 

 very precarious existence. The owls, too, must "live by 

 their wits," but, being nocturnal, they have the advantage of 

 the birds, and, we may be sure, snatch many a tender one 

 rudely from its roost in the open trees, although the dense 

 twigs and sharp needles of the cedars and other close- 

 boughed evergreens must offer such obstacles to the rapid 



