DOWN THE TORRENT'S PATHWAY . 287 
looked away, and flew a few feet to another 
spruce branch. He was now facing me, and he 
watched me narrowly. Most of his accusers 
had gone, and soon all departed, the rain falling 
more briskly, and a cold easterly wind shaking 
moisture from the trees. The little owl shook 
himself and seemed melancholy. He was get¬ 
ting wet, and he did not like my looks at all. 
He flew again, and a second time I kept him 
within sight. His eyes were encircled by discs 
of white mingling with snowy eyebrows, so that 
nearly the whole of his monkey-like countenance 
was white. The back and top of his head were 
brown, and the same dark color closed in round 
his neck and throat, as a baby’s cap closes 
round its face. The owl’s breast was light, and 
marked by several broad perpendicular stripes 
of reddish brown. His back was dark, and so 
were his wings, save for some white spots. 
From the crown of his downy head to the soles 
of his wicked little clawed feet, this tiny Aca¬ 
dian measured not more than seven or eight 
inches. 
My constant watching made the little fellow 
very uneasy. He flew nine times from branch 
to branch or tree to tree, yet I managed to fol¬ 
low him closely. From one of his perches he 
could not see my face well, and it was amusing 
to see him stretch himself to his full height and 
