144 WINTER NEIGHBORS. 



chips did not disturb him at all. When I reached in 

 a stick and pulled him over on his side, leaving one of 

 his wings spread out, he made no attempt to recover 

 himself, but lay among the chips and fragments of de- 

 cayed wood, like a part of themselves. Indeed, it took 

 a sharp eye to distinguish him. Not till I had pulled 

 him forth by one wing, rather rudely, did he abandon 

 his trick of simulated sleep or death. Then, like a 

 detected pickpocket, he was suddenly transformed 

 into another creature. His eyes flew wide open, his 

 talons clutched my finger, his ears were depressed, 

 and every motion and look said, "Hands off, at your 

 peril." Finding this game did not work, he soon 

 began to " play 'possum " again. I put a cover over 

 my study wood-box and kept him captive for a week. 

 Look in upon him at any time, night or day, and he 

 was apparently wrapped in the prof oundest slumber ; 

 but the live mice which I put into his box from time 

 to time found his sleep was easily broken ; there 

 would be a sudden rustle in the box, a faint squeak, 

 and then silence. After a week of captivity I gave 

 him his freedom in the full sunshine : no trouble for 

 him to see which way and where to go. 



Just at dusk in the winter nights, I often hear his 

 soft bur-r^r-r, very pleasing and bell-like. What a 

 furtive, woody sound it is in the winter stillness, so 

 unlike the harsh scream of the hawk. But all the 

 ways of the owl are ways of sqftness and duskiness. 

 His wings are shod with silence, his plumage is edged 

 with down. 



