3 i2 WILD WINGS 



about the size of the eggs of the Flicker or of the Mourning 

 Dove. 



Meanwhile the owl had returned, and was perched on the 

 adjacent stub, some ten feet away, silently watching me, with- 

 out exhibiting any token of impatience or anger. Never do 

 I remember a more weird experience. After eleven o'clock 

 on an inky night, up a tree in lonely woods, the lantern below 

 throwing long sombre shadows, and the spectre-like owl 

 watching me with glowing yellow eyes. I thoroughly enjoyed 

 the ghostly outlook, but it was late, and I descended. At once 

 the owl flew back into the hole. A parting tap brought the 

 disk-like face to the opening again. As I withdrew, I turned 

 back just in time to see the little creature sink back into her 

 domicile. Two weeks later I found her there, not a whit dis- 

 couraged, incubating another set of four eggs. 



Since then I have discovered many more " owl secrets," 

 but not one has given me more unalloyed delight than the 

 revelation of that midnight vigil on the lonely forest stub 

 under the glare of the yellow orbs of the smallest of the owls. 



THE SCREECH OWL AND HER CHILDREN 



