254 THE FERN-OWL. 



turbed ; some naturalists asserting that they have such a power, 

 and have been actually seen in the act of flight with eggs in 

 their claws ; but the fact has been denied by others. That it 

 is not impossible, however, even for birds, without such claws, 

 to remove their eggs, we can vouch from good authority ; for 

 a Pheasant having laid her eggs in a fallow field, became 

 dissatisfied with her situation, and removed them to a less 

 frequented spot in the same field, where she deposited them in 

 another nest, which she had previously scraped together. 



With all these united powers, swift and silent too in 

 flight as it is, no wonder that this bird makes such havoc 

 amongst the, to us nearly invisible, multitudes of moths that 

 people the silent air on a summer's night. At twilight, it may 

 sometimes be seen at work, flitting about, hovering now over one 

 spot, then over another, occasionally dropping or tumbling over, 

 as if shot ; this is the moment, when having seized a moth, the 

 bird reaches it to its mouth, and loses its balance, when again 

 rising, it glides away like a ghost, till lost in shade. We have 

 but one species visiting England, but in foreign countries there 

 are many. In South America, particularly, they abound ; the 

 curious retreats of one species of these birds are thus described 

 by the celebrated traveller, M. de Humboldt, who visited a 

 dark chasm in the rocks called the Cavern of Guacharo, fre- 

 quented by a species whose young were caught to furnish oil: — 



"A frightful noise, made by these birds, issued from the dark 

 recesses of the cavern ; their shrill and piercing tones reverberated 

 from the arched roofs, and re-echoed from the depths of the cave. 

 The Indians, by fixing torches to the end of a long pole, pointed out 

 their nests, arranged in funnel-shaped holes, with which the whole 

 roof of the grotto was riddled. As the travellers advanced, the 

 noise increased, the flare of the torches alarming the birds still 

 more. When it ceased for a few minutes, distinct moans were 

 heard from other remote branches of the cavern, the alternate 

 responses of other flocks of these birds. The Indians, every year 

 about midsummer, descend into the cave, furnished with poles, for 

 the purpose of destroying the nests. At this time many thousands 

 of birds are killed, and the old ones, as if to protect their broods, 

 hover over the heads of the Indians, uttering the most dreadful 

 shrieks. The young that fall to the ground are immediately ripped 

 open, to procure a sort of unctuous or fatty substance with which 



