Jan., 1907 A SEASON WITH THE PACIFIC HORNED OWL 21 



We were well satisfied with the afternoon's work; so started for home 

 determined to get busy at once and pay other owl homes a visit. 



The next Sunday found me fifteen miles from home at a much higher altitude 

 than that where I had been the Sunday previous; for large patches of snow lay on 

 the ground in many places. I knew the exact nest where a family of 3^oung 

 Bubos had been reared in 1902, so I made straight for the tree. No leaves had 

 started, so the nest could be distinctly seen for some distance. A nearer approach 

 revealed to me the horns of an owl clearly outlined against a distant hill. Small 

 sycamores are easy climbing with good irons and it took but a few minutes to cover 

 the forty-nine feet of tree-trunk to the nest. One egg was all I saw. Five days 

 later I returned and secured a fine set of three. I also did a little exploring at 

 this time. 



The numerous canyons in the neighborhood all contained a number of old 

 hawk's nests. These were bombarded with rocks as fast as I could drive from one 

 to another. I probabl}^ had gone a couple of miles and visited a dozen nests before 

 I found that for which I was looking. The old owl left when I threw the first 

 rock and disappeared up the gulch. The nest was a large affair fifty-five feet up 

 in a live oak and one I had never seen before. Imagine my disappointment when I 

 looked over the edge and saw one dirty egg. Closer examination however revealed 

 a crushed one glued tightly to the bottom of the nest. I had no kick coming for 

 the day's trip, so I returned home planning my next excursion. 



Washington's birthday was my next opportunity to look for Bubo and I 

 planned a long drive. A twenty-mile ride brought me to the top of a high cliii 

 which had been formed by the gradual wearing of a creek leaving perpendicular 

 walls one hundred feet high on each side. A horned owl flew from an old 

 dilapidated eagle's nest, which proved to be empty. I now began my usual opera- 

 tions of rolling large rocks over the edge and watching results. After a couple of 

 trials I flushed another owl from the center of the cliff. I felt encouraged but 

 could see nothing. I tied my rope to a large rock, slid down to a ledge and worked 

 my way down a crack in the direction of tlie place where I had flushed the bird. I 

 soon found myself on a shelf about four feet wide and five feet long. A large 

 rock had lodged on the outer edge but behind this la}^ three Bubo eggs. Rabbit fur 

 and small bones littered the ledge, but made a poor nest lining especially when 

 mixed with a number of pieces of broken stone. As a probable result, I found one 

 of the eggs cracked in several places. I packed the set and in a few moments was 

 at the top of the cliff. This set proved to be nearl}^ hatched, so was prepared only 

 after some difficulty. 



After dinner we drove six miles fvu-ther to a grove of sycamores containing a 

 number of red-tails' nests. The hawks were flying around but had no eggs as yet. 

 However, the tell-tale horns of an owl could be seen above the edge of one of the 

 nests. The structure was the largest in the grove but fortunately in an easy tree 

 and only fifty-five feet up. The nest yielded three nearly fresh, abnormally-shaped 

 eggs. Had they been smaller they would have passed for barn owl's eggs. 



Other species of Raptores occupied my time for the next couple of weeks; but 

 on March 15, just three weeks later, I returned to collect red-tail rent. The first 

 thing I found upon entering the grove was a dead hawk; but still hoping for the 

 best I began to search the grove. Mrs. Bubo had taken possession of another nest 

 very much to my surprise and had two more pointed eggs. 



On the Sunday following I made a trip to the mountains after more red-tail 

 rent. I had collected a set of two, two of three, and one of four and found I still 



