178 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



timid, and Fluffy is an arrant coward now ; but 

 Prince Edward, as the new captive has been 

 named, has never shown fear of anything living 

 or dead, large or small. 



Of two fully grown screech owls which I 

 owned, one in the spring of 1890, the other in 

 the spring of 1891, little is to be said. They 

 were unhappy, and, although they ate well, both 

 died from the effects of pounding their heads 

 against wire netting in efforts to escape. These 

 owls, when approached, stiffen their ears, make 

 their feathers lie closely against their bodies, 

 keep every joint and muscle rigid, and so nearly 

 close their eyes that only an expressionless slit 

 remains through which they watch the intruder. 

 To the gentle caress of a hand they pay no heed. 

 I have often taken one of them in my hand, laid 

 him upon his back, and so carried him from 

 room to room, and not been able to detect the 

 movement of a feather. Let, however, the in- 

 truder retire, or let him take a dead mouse from 

 his pocket and draw it by a string across the 

 floor, and Scops is himself again in a twinkling. 

 The ears are lowered, the bright eyes open wide 

 with a wicked glare, and the soft wings take the 

 crafty and cruel little bird swiftly down upon the 

 mouse. This habit of shamming unconscious- 

 ness appeared to be characteristic of the long- 

 eared owl which was mine for a few brief hours 



