THE OWL. 



55 



Next to this is the Common Horned Owl, 

 of a much smaller size than the former, and 

 with horns much shorter. As the great owl 

 was five feet from the tip of one wing to the 

 other, this is but three. The horns are but 

 about an inch long, and consist of six feathers, 

 variegated with black and yellow. 



There is still a smaller kind of the horned 

 owl, which is not much larger than a black- 

 bird ; and whose horns are remarkably short, 

 being composed but of one feather, and that 

 not above half an inch high. 



To these succeeds the tribe without horns. 

 The HOWLET, which is the largest of this kind, 

 with dusky plumes and black eyes ; the 

 SCREECH OWL, of a smaller size, with blue eyes, 

 and plumage of an iron gray ; the WHITE OWL, 

 about as large as the former, with yellow eyes 

 and whitish plumage ; the GREAT BROWN OWL, 

 less than the former, with brown plumage and 

 a brown beak ; and lastly, the LITTLE BROWN 

 OWL, with yellowish coloured eyes, and an 

 orange-coloured bill. To this catalogue might 

 be added others of foreign denominations, which 

 differ but little from our own, if we except the 



HARFANG,Or GREAT HUDSON'S BAY OWL of Edwards, 



which is the largest of all the nocturnal tribe, 

 and as white as the snows of the country of 

 which he is a native. 1 



All this tribe of animals, however they may 

 differ in their size and plumage, agree in their 

 general characteristics of preying by night, 

 and having their eyes formed for nocturnal 

 vision. Their bodies are strong and muscu- 

 lar ; their feet and claws made for tearing 

 their prey ; and their stomachs for digesting 

 it. It must be remarked, however, that the 

 digestion of all birds that live upon mice, liz- 

 ards, or such like food, is not very perfect ; for 

 though they swallow them whole, yet they 

 are always seen some time after to disgorge 

 the skin and bones, rolled up in a pellet, as 

 being indigestible. 



In proportion as each of these animals bears 

 the daylight best, he sets forward earlier in 

 the evening in pursuit of his prey. The great 

 horned owl is the foremost in leaving his re- 

 treat ; and ventures into the woods and thickets 

 very soon in the evening. The horned, and 

 the brown owl, are later in their excursions : 

 but the barn-owl seems to see best in profound 

 darkness, and seldom leaves his hiding-place 

 till midnight. 



As they are incapable of supporting the 

 light of the day, or at least of then seeing and 

 readily avoiding their danger, they keep all 

 this time concealed in some obscure retreat, 

 suited to their gloomy appetites, and there 



1 For the mottled owl, see plate XVI. fig. 11 ; for 

 Dalhousie's owl, see plate XV. fig. 4. Wilson has des- 

 cribed the former of these, and other owls common to 

 America, with his usual animation. 



continue in solitude and silence. The cavern 

 of a rock, the darkest part of a hollow tree, 

 the battlements of a ruined and unfrequented 

 castle, some obscure hole in a farmer's out- 

 house, are the places where they are usually 

 found : if they be seen out of these retreats 

 in the da,y-time, they may be considered as 

 having lost their way ; as having by s'ome 

 accident been thrown into the midst of their 

 enemies and surrounded with danger. 



Having spent the day in their retreat, at 

 the approach of evening they sally forth, and 

 skim rapidly up and down along the hedges. 

 The barn-owl, indeed, who lives chiefly upon 

 mice, is contented to be more stationary : he 

 takes his residence upon some shock of corn, 

 or the point of some old house ; and there 

 watches in the dark, with the utmost perspi 

 cacity and perseverance. 



Nor are these birds by any means silent ; 

 they all have a hideous note ; which, while 

 pursuing their prey, is seldom heard ; but may 

 be considered rather as a call to courtship. 

 There is something always terrifying in this 

 call, which is often heard in the silence of 

 midnight, and breaks the general pause with 

 a horrid variation. It is different in all ; 

 but in each it is alarming and disagreeable. 

 Father Kircher, who has set the voices of birds 

 to music, has given all the tones of the owl 

 note, which make a most tremendous melody. 

 Indeed, the prejudices of mankind are united 

 with their sensations to make the cry of the 

 owl disagreeable. The screech-owl's voice 

 was always considered among the people as a 

 presage of some sad calamity that was soon 

 to ensue. 2 



2 " Up to the year 1813, the barn owl had a sad time 

 of it at Walton Hall. Its supposed mournful notes 

 alarmed the aged housekeeper. She knew full well what 

 sorrow it had brought into other houses when she was 

 a young woman ; and there was enough of mischief in 

 the midnight wintry blast, without having it increased 

 by the dismal screams of something which people knew 

 very little about, and which every body said was far too 

 busy in the church-yard at night time. Nay, it was a 

 well-known fact, that, if any person were sick in the 

 neighbourhood, it would be tor ever looking in at the 

 window, and holding a conversation outside with some- 

 body, they did not know whom. The gamekeeper agreed 

 with her in everything she said on this important sub- 

 ject; and he always stood better in her books when he 

 had managed to shoot a bird of this bad and mischievous 

 family. However, in 1813, on my return from the wilds 

 of Guiana, having suffered myself, and learned mercy, 

 I broke in pieces the code of penal laws which the knavery 

 of the gamekeeper arid the lamentable ignorance of the 

 other servants had hitherto put in force, far too success- 

 fully, to thin the numbers of this poor, harmless, unsus- 

 pecting tribe. On the ruin of the old gateway, against 

 which tradition says the waves of the lake have dashed 

 for the better part of a thousand years, I made a place 

 with stone and mortar, about four feet square, and fixed 

 a thick oaken stick firmly into it. Huge masses of ivy 

 now quite cover it. In about a month or so after it was 

 finished, a pair of barn owls came and took up their abode 

 in it. I threatened to strangle the keeper if ever after 



