178 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



reddish-brown triangle between and a narrow curved line 

 of black under each eye. At this distance and in this 

 light, you see only a black spot where the eye is, and the 

 question is whether the eyes are open or not. It sits on 

 the lee side of the tree this raw and windy day. You 

 would say that this was a bird without a neck. Its short 

 bill, which rests upon its breast, scarcely projects at all, 

 but in a state of rest the whole upper part of the bird from 

 the wings is rounded off smoothly, excepting the horns, 

 which stand up conspicuously or are slanted back. After 

 watching it ten minutes from the boat, I landed two 

 rods above, and, stealing quietly up behind the hemlock, 

 though from the windward, I looked carefully around 

 it, and, to my surprise, saw the owl still sitting there. So 

 I sprang round quickly, with my arm outstretched, and 

 caught it in my hand. It was so surprised that it offered 

 no resistance at first, only glared at me in mute astonish- 

 ment with eyes as big as saucers. But ere long it began 

 to snap its bill, making quite a noise, and, as I rolled 

 it up in my handkerchief and put it in my pocket, it 

 bit my finger slightly. I soon took it out of my pocket 

 and, tying the handkerchief, left it on the bottom of 

 the boat. So I carried it home and made a small cage 

 in which to keep it, for a night. When I took it up, it 

 clung so tightly to my hand as to sink its claws into my 

 fingers and bring blood. 



When alarmed or provoked most, it snaps its bill and 

 hisses. It puffs up its feathers to nearly twice its usual 

 size, stretches out its neck, and, with wide-open eyes, 

 stares this way and that, moving its head slowly and 

 undulatingly from side to side with a curious motion. 



