AMERIOAN ORNITHOLOGY, 295 



ruthlessly driven from his hiding place, in the depths of a hollow tree, 

 his life is made a burden. His appearance in public is a signal for a 

 disturbance, and bird society is immediately in a high state of excite* 

 ment. Blue Jays congregate in flocks and Sparrows in armies for the 

 sole purpose of making life miserable for one poor little Screech Owl. 

 They dash at him viciously, flinging in his ears their choicest epithets. 

 You listen to a veritable bedlam of chirps, chatters and angry vitupera- 

 tions, but you notice the attacking forces are careful not to approach 

 within striking distance of the sharp claws and snapping beak of little 

 megascops. While in no particular danger of bodily harm, his feelings 

 are ruffled and he disgustedly but slowly wings his way back to his hid- 

 place. There he stops through the day, blinking his big innocent eyes 

 and rehearsing his real and fancied wrongs. 



When dusk has fairly fallen, back he goes to the scene of his morn- 

 ings discomfiture. Huddled in rows on a limb of a pine tree and 

 soundly asleep, are his tormentors. Does he remember his late per- 

 secutions, or is it but a feeling of hunger that prompts his actions? In 

 noiseless flight he singles his victim. A flutter of tiny wings — a slight 

 chirp — the sound of a small skull crushing and we may record one of 

 the daily tragedies of bird life. Megascops is avenged. 



The call of the Screech Owl seldom varies and may be successfully 

 imitated by a good whistler. The only variations I have heard were 

 from a captured female which I had separated from her mate. When 

 placed in a cage she uttered such mournful heart-broken cries, accom- 

 panied by actions human-like in her distress, that I had not the heart 

 to keep her longer and returned her to the old home in a maple stub. 

 The call is heard only after nightfall (except on dark winter days) and 

 is usually answered by another near by. It is this call that has caused 

 the little Owl to be associated in stories from time immemorial with 

 hobgoblins, ghosts and grave yards. While there is nothing irritating 

 in the sound, there is a mournful something about it that is apt to give 

 one the shivers. 



Surely it cannot be his appearance that has given him such unwhole- 

 some names as he is forced to bear, for he is a pleasing bird with his 

 great intelligent eyes of almost human expression. And there is 

 nothing in his neat general outline or soft-tinted plumage suggestive 

 of a reason for his being called a "bird of ill omen." 



The plumage of the Screech Owl furnishes one of the unsolved 

 puzzles of Ornithology. It appears in two distinct phases and no color 

 rule will determine the sex of this bird. In this particular locality I 

 have found the browns and grays equally divided, the slight preponder- 

 ance being in favor of the browns. Of twenty-nine mated pairs noted 



