29 



THE OOLOGIST 



SOME OWLS AND OTHERS. 



The Holidays will soon be here, and 

 after them, — the Owls. True, there is 

 an appreciable lapse of time between 

 the last of warmed over turkey and the 

 first set of Owl's eggs, but that sig- 

 nifies nothing to the mind on birds- 

 nesting bent. It is a dull and dreary 

 season to be passed over and forgotten 

 as soon as possible. 



As we all know. Owls are among the 

 very earliest breeders of the bird 

 world. In the East they are at it while 

 the snow is still on the ground, and in 

 Southern California the winds and 

 rains of February and raw March assist 

 at the debut of many a shivering owlet. 



This vicinity is singularly blessed 

 with a variety of these nocturnal rap- 

 tors. Let us call the roll. We have 

 Barn Owl, Long-eared Owl, Spotted 

 Owl, California and Flamulated 

 Screech Owls, Pacific Horned Owl, 

 Burrowing Owl and Pygmy Owl, all 

 permanent residents, with short-eared 

 Owl for a winter visitor and Elf Owl a 

 near neighbor just over the mountains. 



The Pacific Horned is our largest 

 Owl and is fairly common in suitable 

 localities, being strictly nocturnal and 

 keeping to out-of-the-way places, he 

 manages to hold his own pretty well, 

 although not protected by law as are 

 all his relatives. 



The Horned Owl of Southern Cali- 

 fornia nests as a rule either in an old 

 Hawk's nest or in some rock crevice, 

 more commonly the latter, and usually 

 fairly safe from intrusion. I had the 

 pleasure of being with our editor a 

 couple of years ago when he found his 

 first set of this species, and he will 

 bear me witness that the site was well 

 chosen. The date was Washington's 

 Birthday, and if my memory serves me 

 well, the eggs were found well incu- 

 bated when taken a couple of days 

 afterward by the aid of a long fishing 

 pole. 



Not quite a month later I was down 

 in San Diego County after a Red-bellied 

 Hawk. A large nest fifty feet up in a 

 Sycamore looked as if it might bear 

 investigation, although there were no 

 birds about. It was an easy climb — 

 branches growing so close together 

 that it was like going up a flight of 

 stairs. Instead of Hawk's eggs there 

 were three of the Horned Owl. And 

 then I discovered that I had forgotten 

 a collecting box. However, I made the 

 nest of a bad business and took the 

 eggs down in my shirt bosom, spend- 

 ing an anxious half hour in descending 

 what had taken but five minutes to 

 come up. 



The following year when I visited 

 this same nest for another set of Owls, 

 I found three plain eggs of the Western 

 Red-tail, to my mind not worth the 

 fuss that their owners made over them. 



That most bizarre and un-owl-like 

 cosmopolite, the Barn Owl. is also com- 

 mon here, altho woefully persecuted. 

 They are fond of old barns, church 

 belfreys and the like. Consequently 

 they come more into contact with men 

 than do other Owls, and more often 

 fall victim to the "I'ool wits a gun." 

 And every Barn Owl is worth at least 

 twenty dollars a year to the State on 

 account of the mice and gophers he 

 destroys. 



Beside old buildings the Barn Owl 

 to June, laying from four to eight eggs, 

 favors hollow trees and holes in banks 

 or cliffs. Here they nest from March 

 to June, laying from four to eight eggs. 



The first and only time that the 

 writer ever fell afoul to the law was 

 because of a Barn Owl's nest when but 

 a boy of twelve or thirteen, I lived in 

 a small town near San Diego. One 

 Sunday morning several of us climbed 

 up into a church tower after O^l's 

 eggs. It happened that we came too 

 late, — the birds had hatched, and they 

 retreated along a ridge pole when we 



