HAUNTS OF THE FERN OWL. 



concert. " Chur-er-er-chur " to any amount, while 

 overhead you can see them tumbling, wheeling, and 

 diving like a flock of pigeons. The fern owl is not a 

 shy bird in his proper home ; he will fly round your 

 head or settle within six feet of you if you keep quiet 

 and let him alone. 



A slight rustle, and on looking down some small 

 creature is seen moving close to our resting-place, a 

 toad of aldermanic girth. He is going home. A 

 very lucky thing for him that the creature who picks 

 him up is not on entomological thoughts intent, or 

 the " bee-snapping Gabriel " would have a rap on the 

 noddle, and his stomach be turned out next into a 

 basin of water. For a collector of rare and valuable 

 specimens of the beetle tribe is the toad. 



It is noon, and we are slowly walking over the 

 tops of the stone-heaps near our resting-place of last 

 night. Flitting over the stones and running on them 

 are legions of the insect tribe. Lizards are there, 

 for a better feeding-ground you could not find ; the 

 common heath lizard, and now and then a specimen 

 of the green species ; not an escaped Jersey lizard, 

 mind you. 



