IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
family fell victim to the ravenous maw of “Old Head Hunter,” 
who sallied silently back to his perch to devour his latest prize. 
Where only a few minutes before peace and freedom dwelt, now 
a poor mother was mourning the loss of one of her young, pow¬ 
erless to avenge its untimely death. The brains of the young 
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rabbit only served to whet “Old Head Hunter’s” appetite, and 
with another long and weird hoot he was off in search of another 
victim, which this time happened fo be a large rat that mo¬ 
mentarily exposed himself as he ran across a moonlit space near 
a farm yard. In a few seconds the rodent was beheaded and the 
brains devoured. A pigeon straggler in a dove cote near the 
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scene of the last tragedy was the next to fall prey to the rapa- 
cious bird of the night. “Old Head Hunter” was fairly gloating 
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in blood. The terror of the woods was in his glory. 
Having feasted on the pigeon brain, “Old Head Hunter,” 
not wishing to take any more chances in such close proximity 
to human habitation, sailed back toward the woods in search 
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of another variety of “brain special.” He had not long to wait. 
In a marshy bog that bordered his domain, a small flock of 
ducks had paused for rest and food on their long migrations 
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southward. His sharp ears caught their squawks of contented- 
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ness as they settled for the night; his piercing eyes discerned 
tVfffUr.'.A’to ’it! it 
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