224 THE BOOK OF BIRDS 



Talking of feathers reminds me that I have not yet said 

 anything of the wonderful way in which Nature has made 

 an Owl's wings virtually noiseless. As Perseus, in the old 

 Greek fairy-tale, was given the cap of darkness which 

 enabled him to steal upon his victim unobserved and strike 

 before his presence was suspected, so, thanks to the downy 

 fringe with which they have been provided, the wings of 

 the Owl make no rustle or clatter, as, for example, is 

 made by a pigeon. Silently, stealthily, he glides to and 

 fro above the hedgerow or the fieldpath where the mice or 

 the voles are passing, and before they know he is near he 

 has swooped upon them. 



Were it not for the muffling of this downy fringe the 

 Owl would many a time go supperless to bed. For fast 

 though the brown wings can travel, the quick-eared mouse 

 would hear their approach and slip into hiding long before 

 the sharp claws could reach down and clutch him. 



And now, having said so much about Owls in general, 

 let me say something about Owls in particular. 



The typical English Owl, and the largest of the four 

 species which are natives here, is the Brown or, TAWNY 

 OWL. 



He is a forest bird, and is found alike in the oak-woods 

 of the southern half and the pine-woods of the northern 

 half of our island. His loud hoo-hoo-hoo ! is heard also in 

 such northerly countries as Sweden, Norway, and Russia, 

 and some parts of Asia. 



He is a plucky bird, though in size he is a pigmy 

 compared with some of the giant Owls, and if needful he 

 will resist with much sjDirit any attempt to meddle with 

 his nest. 



One naturalist relates how, as a young man, he was 

 climbing an elm-tree, wanting to inspect a likely-looking 



