Lake Umbagog, Maine.
Pine Point.   
1893 
Oct. 7
(no.3)                                         
nothing unusual was heard but soon after we had gone to bed the
Owl which I had heard imperfectly and only a few times last even-
ing began making the most unearthly sounds in the birch grove 
just west of the tents. The night was perfectly calm, and the
bird not 30 yards away. Its cries were loud enough to wake the
soundest sleeper and sufficiently uncanny to make my flesh creep
and the cold shivers run up my back, despite my knowledge
of their origin, and the intense interest with which I listened to
them for nearly half an hour. The bird made three distinct
sounds which may be roughly characterized as a yell, a whistle
and a hoot. The yell was repeated from four to six times a min-
ute and was often continued for several minutes in succession.
Then the bird would hoot from one to three times and immediately
afterwards begin yelling again. It whistled only twice or
rather there were only two whistling periods. The yell varied
greatly in tone and expression and somewhat in form, one varia-
tion usually running gradually into another through intermediate
forms. The three typical or extreme forms were haink, very
similar to the cry of Ardra [Ardea] herodias, ah' ouk exceedingly like
the honk of the Canada Goose, and a snarling cat-like scream.
The haink was not louder than that of the Heron; the other cries
could probably have been heard a mile away.
[margin]The strange
Owl
visits our
camping 
ground[/margin]
  The hoot ordinarily consisted of seven syllables (hoo, hoo-