222 THE BOOK OF BIRDS 



until to our sorrow it was caught by a wave-top, and its 

 doom was sealed. 



The incident happened twenty years ago, but I can still 

 see with pity the picture of utter helplessness which it 

 presented — the beautiful wings opened out upon the dark 

 green of the curling wave and the strange face turned 

 towards us, who could do nothing to save the drowning 

 bird. 



A fast-moving railway engine cannot be easy for any 

 heavily flying bird to avoid, unless the flier be very alert. 

 I read, some three or four summers ago, of a case in point. 



An early morning express train from Glasgow to 

 the Highlands was speeding along at the rate of nearly 

 sixty miles an hour, when the driver saw a large bird 

 dash itself against the front of the engine. It had 

 evidently been trying to fly across the line, but had 

 under-reckoned the swiftness of the puffing monster that 

 was approaching. 



Six miles further the train had to pull up. Then the 

 driver, wondering a good deal, went along to see what had 

 happened. He found a superb specimen of the Barn Owl 

 clinging to the hand-rail in front of the engine. He 

 thought at first that it might escape his reach, but when 

 he took hold of it the creature was quite dead. Not a 

 feather was ruffled or displaced, but the shock had been 

 great enough to kill it. 



The railwaymen were so interested in the unusual 

 capture that they had a photograph taken of the driver 

 seated on the front of the engine, with the Owl held 

 upright on his hand. 



Lady Brassey, in one of her books of travel, tells how a 

 small Owl came into her charge as a pet. It had been shot 

 by the ship's doctor, and was brought on board the yacht 



