294 Bird - Lore 



It is a common belief that Owls cannot see by day, but Billy could catch 

 a spermophile in the brightest sunlight. Occasionally I would tuck Billy 

 under my arm and we would go out in the country to some dry pasture where 

 I would set him on my knee and wait. Soon Billy would see a spermophile, 

 watch it for a moment with a fierce glance then glide through the air on his 

 5-foot wings, and, nine times out of ten, he would bring back that 'gopher.' 



Toward the latter part of August, Billy began to wander, sometimes staying 

 away two or three days, but he never objected to being caught and would 

 even come when I called. He was not so tame always, however. A friend of 

 mine teased him one day. Billy stood for it awhile, but 'enough was too much.' 

 That boy received four gashes on one arm and a finger bitten to the bone. 



Unfortunately, Billy acquired a taste for Ducks and killed seven from a 

 man's flock in the next block. The man took prompt revenge by shooting 

 Billy. 



When Billy was killed, he was almost full grown. His head still had down 

 feathers but his 'ears' were an inch long. He had big yellow eyes the pupil 

 of which he could dilate from the size of a pin point to that of a disc completely 

 effacing the yellow. His throat was pure white and his 'vest' dirty yellow 

 with penciled bars. His tail was fully developed. I did not have him mounted 

 but have his claws, wings, and tail in my room. 



And so endeth the tale of one Great Horned Owl that was gentler and 

 more loving than almost any other pet I ever have had, and I have had a 

 Crow, two Red-shouldered Hawks, a Blue Jay, two Screech Owls, a Yellow- 

 bellied Sapsucker, a squirrel, a coon, and a blacksnake. I might say that 

 I have never kept a single pet locked up nor prevented them from leaving 

 when they so desired. Indeed, it took me three weeks to get rid of one of the 

 Hawks. I even carried him five miles off and released him in the woods but 

 he was home before I returned. 



