306 Trails to Woods and Waters 



know the woods, Ben, but there isn't a crack 

 or corner in the old barn that I don't know." 



" Let's see," replied Ben. 



We went to the barn door and Ben began a 

 high-keyed, tremulous whistle, as mournful 

 as a dirge. 



To my great surprise it was answered in 

 the same key from somewhere upon the big 

 beams. Again Ben whistled and again the 

 answer. Then there was a sudden flapping 

 of wings and a bird about the size of a quail 

 flapped down almost into our faces, hovered 

 for a moment before us as though to inspect 

 us and then flapped back into the dark. 



It was a chunky brown bird, with a catlike 

 head and a very hooked beak, but I had never 

 seen it in the barn before. 



" It's a little barn owl," said Ben. " I dis* 

 covered him whistling here when I came by 

 this afternoon, and I imagined that he had 

 taken up winter quarters in the barn. 



" You can almost always make one of those 

 little screechers fly down at you by imitating 

 his whistle. It seems to anger him to hear 



