286 OWLS. 



very Tamburini of owls, haunted a clump of beeches, and, 

 from one of the bare gnarled branches, I seldom missed 

 hearing his fine tenor voice when I returned late from 

 shooting. It struck me that he would make a first-rate 

 specimen for my collection. As I passed one night with 

 my duck-gun, T heard him in all his glory, so, creeping 

 under the clump, I at last ascertained from which tree the 

 sound proceeded; but to catch sight of the owl seemed 

 impossible. Although he continued his. cry at proper inter- 

 vals, I strained my eyes for ten minutes, until I perceived, 

 upon the very topmost branch, a little knob, I was slowly 

 raising my gun, on the chance of this being my object, 

 when it glided off, plainly showing that I was far more 

 visible to him than he to me. He immediately settled 

 upon another tree, and began to hoot. I was, however, 

 more successful this time, for, upon getting under the tree, 

 I detected him, perched as before, near the top. Taking 

 very deliberate aim, I fired, and the poor owl fell half-way 

 down the tree ; but, being only wounded, he managed to 

 seize a twig with his claws. I threw a few stones to dis- 

 lodge him, but as he was not hit in the wings, he flew a 

 little way and dropped. The night was so dark that I 

 could not find him ; but next morning I went to the spot, 

 and, hearing a great clamour of jays and other birds, I 

 guessed what was the matter, and soon detected my victim 

 lying, persecuted and insulted, at the foot of his tree. He 

 was, of course, at that season, in the finest feather; his 

 back red-brown, like an autumn leaf. I have shot some 

 both early -and late in the season, whose plumage was 



