SNOWY OWL. 137 



such occasions, even when two birds joined in the repast, which was fre- 

 quently the case, when the fish that had been caught was of a large size. 

 At sun-rise, or shortly after, the Owls flew to the woods, and I did not 

 see them until the next morning, when, after witnessing the same feats, I 

 watched an opportunity, and killed both at one shot. 



An old hunter, now residing in Maine, told me that one winter he lost 

 so many musk-rats by the owls, that he resolved to destroy them. To 

 effect this, without loss of ammunition, a great object to him, he placed 

 musk-rats caught in the traps usually employed for the purpose, in a pro- 

 minent spot, and in the centre of a larger trap. He said he seldom failed, 

 and in this manner considerably " thinned the thieves," before the season 

 was over. He found, however, more of the Great Grey Owl, Strix cine- 

 rea, than of the Snowy Owl. The latter he thought was much more cun- 

 ning than the former. 



In the course of a winter spent at Boston, I had some superb speci- 

 mens of the Snowy Owl brought to me, one of which, a male, was alive, 

 having only been touched in the wing. He stood upright, keeping his 

 feathers close, but would not suffer me to approach him. His fine eyes 

 watched every movement I made, and if I pretended to walk round him, 

 the instant his head had turned as far as he could still see me, he would 

 open his wings, and with large hops get to a corner of the room, when he 

 would turn towards me, and again watch my approach. This bird had been 

 procured on one of the sea-islands off Boston, by a gunner in my employ, 

 who, after following it from one rock to another, with difficulty wounded 

 it. In the course of the same winter, I saw one sailing high over the bay 

 along with a number of gulls, which appeared to dislike his company, and 

 chased it at a respectful distance, the owl seeming to pay no regard to 

 them. 



Several individuals have been procured near Charleston, in South 

 Carolina, one on James' Island, another, now in the Charleston Museum, 

 on Clarkson's plantation. A fine one was shot at Columbia, the seat of 

 government for the State of that name, from the chimney of one of the 

 largest houses in that town, and was beautifully preserved by Professor 

 Gibbes of the Columbia College. I once met with one while walking 

 with a friend near Louisville in Kentucky, in the middle of the day. It 

 was perched on a broken stump of a tree in the centre of a large field ; 

 and, on seeing us, flew off, sailed round the field, and alighted again on 

 the same spot. It evinced much impatience and apprehension, opening 



