96 
BIRD LIFE IN WASHINGTON 
so silently upon a stump that lie might 
easily have been mistaken for a little 
t/ 
brown knot. 
There he sits until I am almost ready to 
touch him with my hand. If he is too high 
for me to reach him, he does not take the 
trouble to fly when I come to the foot of 
his stump. After he has satisfied himself 
that I am too big to eat, he gives me an 
occasional look, but appears more inter¬ 
ested in an insect, a mouse, or a tiny bird 
that might come that way. 
Sometimes when his position is too 
public and I fear he might get hurt, I 
try to drive him away by throwing sticks 
at him; but he simply raises himself after 
each throw to see where that funny stick 
went, and then sits quietly down again. 
He appears to know as well as I that the 
stick won’t hit him and lie evidently en- 
joys the game. 
Unfortunately, he gets credit for being 
a bird killer but I have found him hunt¬ 
ing many times apparently more inter¬ 
ested in bugs than birds. However, one 
day I was walking through the meadow 
when I found him surrounded by a circle 
of warblers, thrushes and finches. Each 
was scolding in his own language at the 
little owl, but the owl sat perfectly still 
in the center looking very dignified and 
very innocent. The angry circle kept up 
the cry of alarm until I came to its assis¬ 
tance. 
