Music of the Wild 



but a touch of fear of the forest at night, yet in the 

 system. A taint of an inheritance from days when 

 our ancestors battled there for existence, that be- 

 comes manifest at unexpected sounds, the gleam- 

 ing surfaces of pools, the wavering shafts of 

 moonlight, the vibrant tree-rustle of the wind, the 

 stealthy step of animals crossing the leafy floor, 

 the gutteral scream of night-hunters fighting over 

 prey. So because this bird of silent wing comes 

 hooting from a place of which they stand a little 

 in awe they vent their displeasure on its voice. 



Of all the scientists, ornithologists, and nature 

 writers whose work graces my library shelves not 

 The Owls' one goes on record with the fact that the owl ut- 

 Serenade t erance m ost loudly condemned is his love song, 

 used in courting his mate, and when these writers 

 shudder they do not explain that Mr. Horned Owl 

 is throwing in especially intoned and emphatic sen- 

 timent. He is imploring with all his might for the 

 mate he covets to pair with him and record a title 

 to the first location he finds suitable for their 

 happy home. Just singing out his heart in the 

 best and only serenade he knows. 



Because they are of night and silent flight, no 

 doubt, bats are placed in the same class with owls 

 at the very foot. Most fastidious people imagine 

 that they draw the line at a worm, but they do 

 not. They draw it at a bat, and this, again, on 

 account of the prejudicial history surrounding a 

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