154 BIRD LIFE ON ISLAND AND SHORE 
hatched, so extraordinary were these movements, 
so seemingly uncalled for her excitement, that 
twice I put her off in order to watch her return. 
On the first occasion she flew back within a minute 
or two; on the second occasion she failed to 
return. The chicks began to stiffen with cold; 
the camera was hastily removed; we retired into 
thick cover. Still, however, she did not reappear. 
Minutes passed away; there was no course left 
except to dry-nurse the babies. There had occurred 
once more what again and again had previously 
happened. I had found for the twentieth time 
that a brooding parent will stand a first liberty 
taken, sometimes a second, but that normal 
habits and trains of association once disarranged 
sense of time and of responsibility ceased to exist. 
On this occasion had we not possessed maternal 
bosoms for the little Owlets they would have 
inevitably perished. Not until after four hours 
did the silly mother return, perching preliminarily 
as anticipated on a low branch near the nest. 
The babies were then immediately replaced, the 
masculine nurse withdrawn. A minute later we 
had the satisfaction of seeing the chicks mothered 
by their proper parent. She snuggled on to them 
with perfect unconcern. She had neither reckoned 
on the cold of the long hours’ exposure—it had 
not troubled her—nor been amazed at the lively 
health of the chicks—it had not surprised her. 
