INDIVIDUALITY IN BIRDS. 227 



fed ; the other two have never learned their 

 names. One is a coward, and always seeks 

 safety in swift escape when any danger threat- 

 ens, while his original nest companion is as 

 brave as a lion. I once placed the latter in 

 a small room with two hounds. The dogs ad- 

 vanced towards the owl with faces expressive 

 of great curiosity. The owl spread his broad 

 wings, ruffled the feathers upon his back, 

 snapped his beak, and then, as the dogs came 

 nearer, darted at them, drove them under a sofa, 

 and held them at bay until they were thankful 

 to be allowed to slink out by a back door. No- 

 thing would induce either dog to return to the 

 room that day. 



These three barred owls were reared in the 

 same nest, two in 1888, the third in 1891. They 

 were all taken from the nest before they could 

 fly, and they have been subjected to the same 

 conditions while in captivity. So far as I know, 

 they are of the same sex. In spite of these 

 facts, they are no more alike than three dogs 

 raised in the same kennels, three horses pas- 

 tured in the same field, or three urchins starved 

 and whipped in the same tenement house. They 

 are not equally hungry, sleepy, or skillful in 

 striking living game ; they are not equally fond 

 of sunlight or darkness; they select different 

 perches, and look at life and their master in 



