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THE GREAT HORNED OWL 
This is the most human-looking of all the Owls. 
There is something searching and penetrating in the 
fixed stare of his great round eyes. The suddenness 
of encountering him face to face, and the strangely 
silent flapping of his great brown wings as he darts 
and dodges away among the trees, seem to impress 
the mesmeric weirdness of the woods. Such meetings 
are, indeed, rare, for he shrinks from human intrusion, 
and will face a score of feathered tormentors to avoid 
an inquisitive invader of his retreat. His appearance 
abroad is the signal for a general attack. All the birds 
in the neighbourhood join the hue and cry. Foes are 
for the time united. Robins and Blackbirds make 
common cause. Kingbirds dart at him vindictively, 
and even the Song Sparrows lend moral support to 
the attacking force. Driven to a perch, his erect 
attitude and impressive assumption of dignity do not 
preserve him from the assaults of his persistent 
enemies. Again and again they dart at him, as his 
big, round head turns slowly and ponderously from 
side to side. Despairing of peace, he once more 
spreads his wings and hurries away in search of 
deeper and more sheltering retreats. But the penalty 
