410 The Pigmy Owl. 



to rest awhile, as they journey further north to their breeding 

 grounds. Dame Fortune, fickle though she generally be, deigned 

 for once to smile, and afforded me an opportunity I had long 

 desired, to watch the habits of the pigmy owl. Two of these 

 strangers selected as their home a gnarled and twisted oak 

 (Quercus garryana), that grew alone on an open patch of 

 gravelly ground near a small lake. Close by this lake was 

 the remains of an Indian lodge, that had been once used as a 

 fishing station, affording me a capital place of conceal- 

 ment, to watch the manners and customs of these — to the 

 aborigines — potent and much-dreaded spirits. My camp was 

 not far away, thus enabling me to reach my hiding-place at the 

 first blush of morning. No sooner did the rosy light creep 

 down the valley and spread over the plain, than the owls were 

 up and stirring — evidently hungry from a nighfs fasting, for, 

 like a well-conducted couple, they retired early to rest. 



Their flight, short, quick, and jerking, similar to the 

 movement of the sparrow-hawk, quite unlike the muffled, 

 noiseless flap of the night-owl, as it sails along over marsh 

 and meadow, in pursuit of mice and lizards, or any benighted 

 rodent that has incautiously strayed too far from its place of 

 safety. The food of this little owl is entirely insectivorous ; 

 its favourite morsel a fat grasshopper, or field cricket — not 

 that it by any means refuses or objects to breakfast on an 

 early riser, be it beetle or butterfly, that, like the proverbial 

 worm, is so devoid of prudence as to permit the early bird 

 to gather it. 



When in pursuit of food, the owls perch on a small 

 branch, near the ground, sit bolt upright in an indolent and 

 drowsy manner, until their quick eye detects an insect moving 

 on the plain ; they then pounce suddenly upon him, hold 

 him down with their small but powerful claws, and with their 

 sharp curve-pointed beaks tear the captive to pieces. The 

 hard wing- covers and thighs, if a cricket, or the wing- 

 shields, if a beetle, are rejected, only the soft abdominal parts 

 being eaten. Hunger satiated, they return to their tree, 

 and, cuddling lovingly together, sit and doze away their 

 time, protected from the blazing rays of the mid-day sun by 

 the leafage of the sturdy oak. Breakfast disposed of, and the 

 preparations completed for the diurnal siesta, I used to abandon 

 my post and, like the owls, eat, and indulge in a refreshing sleep 

 under some shady covert. Thus rested, the remainder of the 

 day was passed in collecting, or preserving what I had already 

 obtained, until the murmurs of the forest gradually dying 

 away, the softened light, hovering round each peak and 

 crag, warned me of the sun's departure. Again betaking 

 myself to my lair, I awaited the owls' reappearance. 



