FIRST WEEK] February 39 



very face. We can well believe that as the sun sets, after 

 an afternoon of such excitement, they flee in terror, select- 

 ing for that night's perch the densest tangle of sweetbrier 

 to be found. 



One hollow tree may yield a little gray owl, while 

 from the next we may draw a red one; and the odd thing 

 about this is that this difference in colour does not depend 

 upon age, sex, or season, and no ornithologist can say 

 why it occurs. What can these little fellows find to feed 

 upon these cold nights, when the birds seek the most hidden 

 and sheltered retreats? We might murder the next owl 

 we come across; but would any fact we might discover in 

 his poor stomach repay us for the thought of having need- 

 lessly cut short his life, with its pleasures and spring court- 

 ships, and the delight he will take in the half a dozen 

 pearls over which he will soon watch? 



A much better way is to examine the ground around 

 his favourite roosting place, where we will find many 

 pellets of fur and bones, with now and then a tiny skull. 

 These tell the tale, and if at dusk we watch closely, we 

 may see the screech owl look out of his door, stretch every 

 limb, purr his shivering song, and silently launch out 

 over the fields, a feathery, shadowy death to all small 

 mice who scamper too far from their snow tunnels. 



When you feel like making a new and charming ac- 

 quaintance, take your way to a dense clump of snow- 

 laden cedars, and look carefully over their trunks. If 

 you are lucky you will spy a tiny gray form huddled close 

 to the sheltered side of the bark, and if you are careful 

 you may approach and catch in your hand the smallest 



