NOVEMBER. 



MUCH FEATHER, LITTLE BIRD. 



November 6. Very few short-eared owls seemed 

 to have reached our east coast by November, perhaps 

 because they are least of all birds fitted to make 

 headway against an adverse wind. Whenever you 

 take an owl in your hand you are astonished afresh 

 at the little quantity of owl that goes to such an 

 amount of feathers, because the size of the bird's 

 head, especially its eyes, and its powerful feet, keep 

 up the deception of its ample pinions and fluffy 

 plumage ; but grasp an owl firmly in your hand, and 

 you will find that its small kernel of body inside the 

 husk of downy feathers seems scarcely so large as 

 the rat that you may have seen him swallow head 

 first although it is true that the rat's tail had to 

 remain hanging out of his mouth until he had digested 

 the head and made room for the final gulp. It is 

 this deceptive featheriness of owls which gives them 

 their amazingly buoyant flight with two whiffs of 

 its wide white wings the barn-owl sails at speed over 

 a whole range of farm-buildings but at the same 

 time prevents them from beating against a contrary 

 wind. The solid, strong-flying birds, which have 

 crossed the German Ocean with an east wind and 



