SCREECH OWL. 25 



About the middle of October, passing through the 

 extensive and beautiful Pen, called Mount Edge- 

 cumbe, where the smooth-barked pimento trees 

 grow from the grassy sward, as in a park, my at- 

 tention was called to a large space walled in, which 

 my negro lad, Sam, told me was a " Spanish hole." 

 Curiosity led me to examine it. On getting over 

 the wall, which was only a fence of dry stones, to 

 protect the cattle from falling in, I found myself 

 in an area of about eighty feet in diameter, in the 

 centre of which yawned a vast pit nearly circular in 

 form, about forty feet wide, and as many in depth. 

 The edge overhung in every part, consisting of 

 sharp limestone rock, so that there seemed at first 

 no means of getting down. Some trees, however, 

 were growing from the bottom, a few being of large 

 size, and all of great height and smoothness, almost 

 wholly of one kind, the bread-nut (Brosimum ali- 

 castrum). On carefully searching round, we found 

 a slender tree growing so close to the edge as to 

 afford a ready means of sliding down by, but so 

 smooth that Sam was very reluctant to essay it, 

 doubting his power to climb up again. It was 

 with a hope of finding it the resort of owls or bats, 

 that I had determined to examine it, and while 

 we were discussing the possibility of reascending, 

 a large White Owl suddenly flew up, and after flitting 

 round once or twice, sailed away towards the woods. 

 While I was peering into the remote corners, I 

 discerned on a huge flat rock beneath the cavernous 

 sides, what seemed a young bird, snow-white, and of 

 large size, together with several eggs. This made 



