412 The Pigmy Owl. 



The Indians, without exception, hold this little owl in 

 terrible dread ; to see one in the day, or to hear its feeble cry, 

 not unlike a stifled scream, is a fatal omen to brave or squaw — 

 the hearer or a near relative is sure to die ere the end of the 

 moon. To kill one is an unpardonable heresy ; I nearly got 

 into very serious trouble for shooting a specimen of this little 

 owl. An Indian deputation, headed by their chief, waited on 

 me, protested against my risking theirs and my own inevitable 

 destruction. All reasoning was futile, and there was nothing 

 for it but to procure all mystic birds and mammals by stealth. 



It is a curious fact that owls, in every part of the world, 

 have always been deemed birds of ill omen. The crumbling 

 ruins of an ancient monastery, the old tower in the ivy- 

 clad castle, and the ghost's chamber in a haunted house, 

 are invariably associated with owls and goblins grim. 



Pliny, in his Natural History, when speaking of birds of 

 evil, says : " The owl is a dismal bird, and very much dreaded 

 in public auguries ; inhabits deserts, that are not only desolate, 

 but dreary and inaccessible ; it is a monster of night, nor does 

 it possess any voice, but a groan." 



Virgil alludes to it as foreboding the death of Dido : — 



" Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo 

 Ssepe queri et loDgas in fletum ducere voces." 



Shakspeare, too, saddles this poor bird with the guilt of 

 ominous predictions. 



Casca, in alluding to the events preceding Caesar's death, 

 says : — 



w And yesterday the bird of night did sit, ' 

 Even at noonday, upon the market-place, 

 _ Hooting and shrieking." 



In Egypt, in bygone years, if the Pacha presented a gentle- 

 man with a drawing, or any representation of an owl, it was 

 meant as a polite hint to the recipient of the gift, if he did 

 not dispose of his own life, the powers supreme would save 

 him the trouble. More modern poets rarely scandalise or ma- 

 lign the owl's character : as knowledge of the physical sciences 

 has become diffused, so the mists of superstition have vanished, 

 and modern writers, even in poetic composition, truthfully 

 allude to its habits. 



Coleridge, in Christabel : — 



" 'Tis the middle of the night by the castle clock, 

 And the owls have awakened the crowing cock." 



Again Longfellow, in Hyperion, speaks of the owl " as a 

 monk, that chaunts midnight mass, in the great temple of 

 nature." 



