The Spotted Owl 
have blundered upon, all in a shady dell, unfre¬ 
quented of men. There is no need for anxiety. 
The bird is mildly curious himself, and not 
in the least alarmed. His aspect is anything 
but ferocious—benevolent, rather—and 
he looks for all the world like some 
patriarchal gnome disturbed at his 
slumbers, yet not resentful. We vote 
him handsome at the first breath, and 
admiration grows as we dwell upon 
the sleekness, the mellow rotundity, 
and the exquisite harmony of the 
figure, and especially of the costume 
before us. Spotting' suggests the 
conspicuous, and this bird is spotted 
with white from head to foot, on a 
background the deepest of wood- 
browns; and yet the pattern blends 
in so perfectly, is so essential a part 
of the checkered sunlight falling upon 
branch and leaf beside him, that we 
say, “Why, of course. How could 
he be any different?’’ Whereas, an 
object merely brown or merely white 
would stand out here like a sore 
thumb, this camouflaged statuette 
almost disappears under the searching 
eye. We must circle about him to 
coax an inclination of the head, or a 
tell-tale movement of the foot. Now 
and again the benignant creature winks 
prodigiously, and the ladies with us 
shriek with laughter. Silly things! The 
bird is not winking at them. He was up 
late last night and the sun hurts his eyes, 
that’s all. 
Our knowledge of the Spotted Owl is chiefly derived from two accounts 
of their nesting which have appeared in the columns of the “Condor.” 
The first of these, by Mr. Lawrence Peyton,i tells of the discovery, in 
1908, of a nest situated in Castaic Canyon, in a hole on the face of a 
perpendicular granite cliff, and at a point about fifteen feet up. From 
Taken in Los Angeles County 
From a photograph. Copyright 1921, 
by Wright M. Pierce 
THE BIRD IS MILDLY CURIOUS HIMSELF 
Condor, Vol. XII., July, 1910, pp. 122, 123. 
lO^I 
