THE GROUSE AND ITS ENEMIES 45 



in England, the man who manages to slay an un- 

 fortunate eagle of either species is sure to find his 

 doughty deed duly advertised by the production of a 

 spicy article which goes the round of the papers, 

 usually converting a sea eagle from Northern Europe 

 into a magnificent golden eagle from the wilds of 

 Sutherland. The most amusing instance of the kind 

 that has come directly under my notice related to the 

 supposed capture of a great eagle-owl in Cumberland. 

 A local newspaper gave a high-flown account of how 

 the huge bird was winged by a keeper on a moor near 

 Cockermouth, and was brought to bay by the intrepid 

 exertions of a large retriever dog. I journeyed some 

 sixty odd miles to pay my respects to the bird of wis- 

 dom, and was not a little entertained to find Bubo 

 maximus resolve itself into a forlorn and miserable 

 specimen of the short-eared owl. In this case there 

 was no doubt as to where the blame of floating a 

 canard lay. The editor of a local paper, Mr. Blank 

 of Blankington, had seen the bird himself at the 

 keeper's house, and the identification of the specimen 

 as an eagle-owl was a flight of his own unassisted 

 genius. Of course this brilliant hit was copied by 

 many of his brethren all over England, and occupied 

 a prominent position in some of the more foolish 

 journals. 



