IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
in sound and volume until all the furry nightfolk of the forest 
scampered in terror to places of safety, as well as they might. 
They knew the prowess and hunting ability of “Old Head 
Hunter,” as the folks in the neighboring village called this 
wraith-like bird, because of numerous depredations committed 
on their poultry yards and dove cotes; taking only the heads 
of his victims, as the brains were the tid-bits he delighted in. 
Again “Old Head Hunter” was preparing to exact his nightly 
toll from among the smaller denizens of the forest. 
In almost uncanny silence, on swift, hawk-like wings, he 
(/ yZ N __ 
came sailing through the woodland and alighted on the dead 
branch of a towering oak, from where he made his sallies upon 
/ JH—' 
his unfortunate victims. A deep-toned, “to-whoo-hoo-hoo, to- 
whoo-hoo,” that sounded like a muffled roll of thunder, startled 
the furry folk, and again sent them scampering to places of 
safety. But, one poor, unfortunate little mouse, probably a bit 
bolder than the rest, ventured too far from his place of safety, 
and before it had time to escape, the claws of “Old Head 
Hunter” had sunk into his back; with a squeal of terror, the 
mouse was borne in triumph to the dead oak limb, where the 
great horned owl, for such “Old Head Hunter” was, began to 
/ 1 /u \ • 1 
[ 119 ] 
