A BOBWHITE FAMILY 143 



living on the place remarked, "De ole swamp owl am sure 

 mad at some thin ' tonight. ' ' 



The next morning while riding along the border of the 

 swamp I was surprised to find a large barred owl sitting 

 on the ground in a most dejected manner. Its wings 

 drooped listlessly and the top of its head was bare of 

 feathers and the skin was raw and bleeding. Evidently 

 it had experienced a terrible whipping. Bobwhite feathers 

 were scattered about. I took the wounded owl up on the 

 horse with me, but he died within a mile, sitting on the 

 pommel of my saddle. His stomach contained no signs of 

 a partridge feast although I strongly suspect he knew 

 what became of the solitary bird which alighted on the 

 swaying pine bough. Perhaps he had caught it but, before 

 he could eat his victim, had been robbed of his booty by the 

 old swamp owl, who had devoured it after giving its cap- 

 tor a rare beating. At any rate the swamp owl's calls the 

 next night indicated that he was still alive and appar- 

 ently happy. 



The young were now full grown, and a prettier, plumper 

 covey of partridges could not have been found in the 

 country around. Sometimes the chickens when wandering 

 about the fields would meet the bobwhites and all would 

 hunt and feed together. Once they went back together to 

 the farm yard. It was a still Sunday afternoon and all 



