OWLS. 285 



own part, I never saw the white owl hunting in the day- 

 time, and I know a case in point regarding the tawny owl 

 of quite contrary evidence. A pair had reared their brood 

 in a magpie's nest, near the top of a thick pine-tree. I 

 used often to go to look at the young, and thus drove 

 the old ones from their dwelling. They were instantly 

 pursued by a host of small birds, principally thrushes and 

 blackbirds ; and so surely did this happen, that the noise 

 of their chattering was always a signal to me that the 

 owls' nest was disturbed ; whereas, if these owls had 

 hunted for prey in the daylight to anything like the extent 

 above mentioned, the uproar among the little birds would 

 have been almost incessant. A gamekeeper told me that 

 once, when he climbed the tree, one of the old owls darted 

 down upon his head, and scratched him with its claws. I 

 could scarcely give credit to this, as I always saw both 

 birds on the watch when I invaded their castle, but they 

 never attempted any defence. 



When the hen bird was sitting upon her eggs, the male 

 did not take up his quarters so near, for I have frequently 

 seen him in the dusk fly across the bay from the opposite 

 oak wood, and settle upon an aged plane-tree, uttering a 

 low tremulous hoot. This was immediately answered by 

 a sharp scream from his mate, who then left her nest and 

 joined him on the tree. 



Owls hoot all the year, except in the dead of winter ; 

 and even then, should the weather be calm and clear, they 

 continue to mourn through the darkness of the night. 

 During the severe winter of 1831, a fine old fellow, the 



