Widmann — A Preliminary Catalog of the Birds of Missouri. Ill 



the coldest day of one of our coldest winters, with 20 degrees 

 below zero (the cage was under a porch, but otherwise not 

 sheltered from the cold) the companion of seven years was found 

 lying dead on the floor of the cage and her hubby occupied with 

 tearing the flesh from her breast. The eggs had burst with the 

 intense cold. Since that day he has remained a widower, though 

 during the thirteen years we lived in the suburbs he came near 

 getting another partner several times. His hooting, heard in 

 the dead of night for half a mile or more, attracted others of his 

 kind, and twice, females, which remained too long in the neigh- 

 borhood, were shot by neighbors. One female in particular was 

 very persistent, tried her best to get into the cage to him, and 

 left unwillingly when we approached the cage in the early morn- 

 ing after a night made memorable by incessant hootings of 

 hob ho"6 hoo, hoo, hoo, by him and answers of ho ho ho ho ho 

 by her. For years his hooting was begun in September and 

 kept up till February; in clear, cold moonlit nights he was 

 noisiest: in dark, cloudy or rainy nights he was not heard. 

 Sometimes he would not hoot much, at other times he would 

 hoot for hours until he was really hoarse and his usual agreeable 

 deep bass became grating to the ear. Since he was moved back 

 to town again in 1902, he has given up hooting, though his 

 general appearance does not show any signs of old age, and his 

 dress, which he gets anew in summer, has the same depth and 

 freshness of color as ever. He is never left without water to 

 drink, but takes a bath only in very hot weather, though he 

 likes to sit in the rain with wings spread wide. He is fed once 

 a day before dusk, his daily ration being a fourth of a pound of 

 raw meat in small pieces, varied sometimes with a rat, mouse, 

 sparrow, or whatever else is obtainable, but he rejects moles 

 and toads. When mice and sparrows are offered at the same 

 time, he will swallow all the mice before he touches a sparrow. 

 Such small fry he swallows entire, after breaking the bones by 

 rolling the animal with his tongue in the beak. If handed more 

 than he can eat at one meal, for instance a grown chicken, he 

 will invariably store the rest in the darkest corner of his box, 

 but won't touch it any more when it gets too stale. He likes to 

 be spoken to and seems to know those who care for him, comes 

 to them and takes food out of their hands, but he hates 

 dogs, sticks and boys. Once I found a crow that could not fly 

 and took it home for experimenting. I put it in the cage with 

 the two owls. Great was my surprise to see that not only was 



