Their First Appearance. 85 



we can, with our tinkering interference. If hawks 

 were spared and magpies left in peace, we should 

 hear very little about plagues of small birds. 



Even the owl, impelled by the needs of her nest- 

 lings to start on the chase somewhat earlier in the 

 day than usual, may pick up a casual youngster here 

 and there that happens to come in her way. 



It is very little, however, that owls do in this direc- 

 tion. The very hours they keep ensure their paying 

 attention more to fur than feather, and careful ex- 

 amination of the rejected remains of food that accumu- 

 late in their haunts has proved again and again that 

 birds form a very small part indeed of their customary 

 diet. 



The eagle owl, indeed, has been known to bring 

 home partridges and blackcock, and even dead lambs. 



But the eagle owl is a stranger here ; when he does 

 pay us a visit, he meets with a reception that precludes 

 all hope of his return. 



The owlets who were hatched in the early days of 

 May are hardly ready yet to join the twilight forays of 

 their elders. An odd-looking crew they are, huddled 

 together in their hollow tree. Even the old bird is a 

 ludicrous object. 



But, after all, the eyes of day have no business with 

 the bird of night. It is only in the twilight that he 

 wakens into life. Sallying out at dusk from his snug 

 retreat in tower or tree, he floats like a phantom over 

 the fields on his soft and soundless wings ; or, perched 



