of tty 



dent ; and such accidents are extremely rare, as will 

 be seen from a statement by Mr. Burroughs in which 

 he says he has come upon but three hummingbirds' 

 nests in all his life ! He has doubtless found many 

 more than three owls' nests, but perhaps not one 

 of such finds was an accident. He hunted for the 

 owls. 



Night after night, in the sweet silence through 

 which our little river sings, we hear the whimpering 

 of the small screech owls. They are beating for mice 

 and frogs over the meadow. So much we get without 

 watching ; but the sight of them and their nest, that 

 came only with my visiting every tree in the neigh- 

 borhood having a cavity big enough to hold the birds. 



At twilight, in the late spring and early summer, 

 we frequently hear a gentle, tremulous call from the 

 woods, or from below in the orchard. " What is it?" 

 I had been asked a hundred times, and as many times 

 had answered that it sounded like the hen partridge 

 clucking to her brood; or that it made me think 

 of the mate-call of a coon ; or that I half inclined to 

 believe it the cry of the woodchucks ; or that pos- 

 sibly it might be made by the owls. In fact, I did n't 

 know the peculiar call, and year after year I kept 



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