The Arizona Elf Owl 
can believe that this 
little midget, who may 
be entirely hidden in the 
hollow of your hand, is 
really an owl? Owl! 
your grandmother! 
Why, you want to nuzzle 
it and call it “pretty 
baby,” and say its dad¬ 
dy ought to be proud of 
it. But hold! Let us 
see if there is anything 
else in that hole. One- 
two-thr ee-four round 
white eggs, as big as a 
Flicker’s, lying on the 
hard bottom of the 
cavity, without a shred 
of lining. This drowsy 
infant, this puny, pa¬ 
thetic pickaninny terror 
is a mother! Doubtless 
her little wits are work¬ 
ing mightily under that 
mask of insouciance. 
Let us see. Relax the 
lingers. Psst goes the 
bird upon the instant 
and takes refuge in 
the nearest bush. There 
she glowers for a mo¬ 
ment, and then takes 
wing for another sahuaro 
and dives confidently into another hole. 
Mrs. Micropallas whitneyi today. 
Truth to tell, Elf Owls are very difficult of observation. The lore 
which has grown up about them is scanty and not always consistent. 
They are strictly nocturnal in habit, are none too noisy, and live a life 
so secluded that we can do little better than catch them asleep, or note 
them under artificial conditions. 
The classification of nocturnal noises proceeds by elimination, 
guesswork, or murder. Those who have tried the last-named method 
ELF OWL 
It is the last we shall see of 
Ir 35 
