igS AMERICAN ORNITHOLQGJ., 



filling an old woodea trough at the foot of a lane where cattle come to- 

 drink and browse. Here grass greens earliest in the spring. The 

 outflowing rivulet wanders along the hill foot, becoming by the influx 

 of other streamlets, a noisy brook fuming and foaming along its stony 

 bed. Just before it enters the wide green meadows an old orchard 

 occupies the rise on the hither side. It is walled up by an ancient and 

 moss-grown stone fence and. may be entered through barways of 

 weather beaten cedar. The old trees still show some vigor, but the 

 trunks and branches are seamed and pierced with cracks and cavities 

 caused by decay resulting from old wounds. Here and there the bark 

 bears the ring dottings of the smaller woodpeckers. Bare dead 

 branches show the perforations of the Flicker. 



The slope from orchard to brookside is covered by a scattering 

 growth of tall sapling maples and birches. This copse terminates in a 

 thicket of alders at the bank. Smooth upland mowing land rolls south 

 from the orchard to the farm house nestling among its great elms at 

 the roadside. To the west lies a small swampy thicket and beyond this 

 a belt of large chestnut timber and another high, barren, rocky pasture. 

 "But" you ask "why take up time with all this description? this filling?" 

 Well, I am taking you to a locality fitted by man and nature as a dwell- 

 ing place for the Screech Owl and I wish you to recognize such a spot 

 when you reach it. The old hollow apple trees will furnish our bird 

 with a hiding place during the day, or a nest in which to rear its young. 

 The meadow and fields will furnish their tribute of field mice and other 

 small game. The woodland and the swampy thickets harbor birds, small 

 four-footed creatures and large night-flying insects which may be read- 

 ily captured by the owl as it hunts along the borders; and even the 

 rocky upland pastures and fields will furnish some grasshoppers and 

 crickets for the owl's larder. The brook with its frogs and fishes will 

 also serve a purpose, for our owl when driven by necessity, becomes 

 an expert fisher. Whether the owls have reasoned that this spot will 

 furnish plentifully their larder or whether the hollow trees alone 

 attracted them, [ leave it for the reader to conjecture, for he that can 

 fathom the working of an owl's mind is wiser than the owl. 



While we are talking the shadows lengthen and the even-song of the 

 Wood Thrush, the Robin and the Veery remind us that the owl day is 

 about to begin. A half hour's walk brings us to the old barway and as 

 the sun disappears behind the distant tree tops we stand beneath the 

 apple trees. Already the air grows cool with the chill of night; the even- 

 ing dews are falling; in silence the darkness comes. Suddenly you are 

 startled by a sharp snap twice repeated and coming apparently out of 



