It is time to take up the history of the young Great 
Horned. Owl that I had of Davis. Shortly after getting him, 
I saw Henry Lawrence who told me that he found the two young 
sitting side by side on the branch of a tall pine in the 
woods by the river. As he approached,the larger one flew and 
he shot it, breaking its wing. He did not molest the other 
young bird but he fired at and, as he thinks, wounded one of 
the parents. 
I kept this young Owl in a cage in the woods near the 
cabin for upwards of two weeks. Like all of its fierce race, 
it was surly and untamable, threatening every one who 
approached it closely, by snapping its bill and making quick 
thrusts with its formidable talons. It finally learned to 
tolerate Gilbert, however, and took raw meat from his fingers 
thanklessly enough but without much active resentment. At 
intervals of from one to five minutes during the night and 
occasionally by day, as well, it uttered a short, harsh, 
penetrating cry which was not unlike the peep of Ghordidiles 
and which, no doubt, was merely a variation — perhaps 
characteristic of very young birds — of the Jay-like cry 
that I hear every autumn at Lake Umbagog. I suspect that 
by means of this call it finally attracted the attention of 
one of its parents for early one morning a number of Crows 
began making a great outcry in the oaks over the cage and 
Gilbert, who went out to investigate the cause of the dis¬ 
turbance, found them mobbing a large Owl which wailed off 
through the trees as he approached. 
