54 
The Barn Owl 
It is little wonder that a child shudders at the night call of an owl. It 
is a weird sound, like the wail of something lost, or the haunting cry of the 
night hunting its way back to day. Yet to one who understands the 
language of the owl, it is not at all uncanny. The musical whistle of the 
Screech Owl, the hoot of the Great Horned Owl, the scream of the Barn 
Owl, are all night-sounds that I love to hear. We live so much in the 
glare of the daylight that we are blind to many of the bird and animal 
folk that live in the dark. 
For ages the owl has been regarded with superstition — an ill-omened 
bird of prey. Perhaps it is not unnatural, too, that we should dislike a 
Dread fellow who is up all night and sleeping during the 
of Owls day. There is always a suspicion against a night- 
prowler, whether he be bird, beast, or man. Yet as 
long as we have a great army of ground-folk that ravage our gardens 
and orchards at night, we must have night-watchmen or policemen to 
keep these robbers in check. If the moles, gophers, mice, rats, and squir- 
rels were given free rein, they and their children would take almost 
everything — in fact, would nearly eat us out of house and home. 
To prevent such a calamity nature has put the owls on the night- 
shift, and splendidly has nature planned and equipped this bird for its 
life-work. The eyes and ears of the Barn Owl are not in the side of the 
The Owl’s head like those of a sparrow, but in front, like the 
Equipment e y e s a man - They are in the center of two circles 
of filmy feathers, with a hooked nose between, creat- 
ing an expression unbirdlike yet not quite human, so that the Barn Owl 
is often said to be “monkey-faced.” The eyes are fitted as if with tel- 
escopic glasses to penetrate the darkness of the night. This vision is so 
sharp as to detect the slightest movement of a mouse. The ear-opening 
is large, and the hearing keen enough to catch the passing footsteps of 
tiny creatures. It is very likely an owl can hear a mouse even farther 
than it can see it. 
The clothing of an owl is loose and fluffy, making the bird appear 
larger than it really is. The feathers are soft and fringed, so as to make 
flight noiseless. The claws are pointed like needles, and resemble the 
strength of a steel trap. They pierce the small ground-animals with little 
effort, and the hooked beak tears their flesh with ease. When an owl 
pounces upon a squirrel or rabbit the animal appears to be terror-stricken, 
and does not show fight. The owl strikes for the head and neck, as a 
The Owls general rule, and eats the head first, 
in the Barn Several years ago I had a capital chance to make 
an intimate study of a family of Barn Owls, which 
made their home in the gable of a neighbor’s barn. A hole had been 
sawed just under the eaves and a box nailed on the inside for a pair of 
pigeons. The house did not suit the pigeons, so they moved, and the 
Barn Owls occupied the box the following year. 
The old barn had no loft, but we secured a long ladder and climbed 
