128 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



To their enemies, however, these beautiful birds 

 are neither gentle nor confiding. Last June, as I 

 was watching a chestnut-sided warbler from the 

 undergrowth near a vireo's nest, I heard a great 

 commotion among the thrushes and vireos, and 

 hurried out of the cover to se$ what was the trouble. 

 I heard a low complaining croon from one of the 

 vireos, and looking up saw, to my surprise, a 

 gray screech owl flying blindly about among the 

 branches. After a little he stumbled upon a dead 

 limb and sat down, trying to feel at home. But 

 the vireos were crying ominously kray, kree-kree- 

 Jcree-kree, and when he thought how they had 

 darted down and snapped their bills at him as he 

 came along, he edged uneasily over the branch. 

 Just then my dog came running noisily through 

 the dead leaves under the tree. What could be 

 coming next ! The scared, awkward owl turned 

 his head over to one side and strained his big eyes 

 to see. His ears stood up, and his pupils grew 

 bigger and bigger with fright. He looked like a 

 great booby entrapped by a practical joke. But 

 this was too serious. What with a dozen vireos 

 and thrushes threatening him, some wild animal 

 or other rushing about at the foot of the tree, 

 and the pair of big glass eyes almost as large as 

 his own, through which another mysterious object 

 was menacing him. No owl could bear it! Away 

 he flew, as fast as his blundering wings could flap, 

 followed by the angry vireos, who saw him well 



