276 AT THE NORTH OF BE ARC AMP WATER. 
and I hooted. After my third attempt, I saw 
a great bird fly through the woods to a point 
only a hundred yards distant. In a moment or 
two I hooted again, and then made the fine 
squeaking noise which a mouse makes. The 
owl came nearer, and at once began hooting. 
During nearly ten minutes, in which we kept 
up a lively exchange of hoots, he varied his 
notes in several ways, sometimes keeping on, 
without pausing, from one series of hoots to an¬ 
other. I never heard a more talkative owl. At 
last he flew into a tree so near us that I could 
see him clearly through my glass. As he hooted, 
his throat swelled and pulsated. He searched 
the trees and the ground with his keen dark 
eyes. When at last he saw me, I seemed to 
feel the force of his glare. Then he turned his 
head to the left and flew away with long, soft 
sweeps of his wings. At a distance he resumed 
his hooting, which we could hear for some time 
as we strolled on up Sabba Day Brook. What 
we had supposed to be the river, on Sunday, 
proved to be Sabba Day Brook itself. The 
water was high, most of the ice had gone, and 
all the small brooks poured in liberal streams. 
In one pool I observed a small trout. At last 
we heard the thunder of the falls, and looked 
forward eagerly to see them. The stream 
seemed to issue from the solid rock, for directly 
