Part 12

The Owl was no taller than a Robin, but his large, round head and thickset body made him appear to be a much larger bird. He had two ear tufts (or horns) of feathers, a strong, curved beak, and powerful toes, lightly feathered, ending in the hooked talons that mark the birds of prey, that is, birds that prey, or feed, upon forms of animal life other than defenceless insects, worms, etc. Its feathers were a bright rusty red colour, streaked with black; its underparts being more or less white, mixed with red and black.

“The Owls in the orchard are like this one, only they are all gray and black,” said Goldilocks, after taking a long look.

“Perhaps this is the father bird; you told us that if one bird is a gayer colour than the other, it is generally the father,” said Sarah Barnes.

“Yes, that is often the case, as I am glad to find that you remember, but not with the Screech Owl, the most common of American Owls, and one that is known under many names—Mottled Owl, Gray Owl, and Red Owl.

“There may be some gray birds and some red ones in the same brood, but this does not depend upon sex, season, or age. The strange difference is called by a long name, ‘dichromatism’ or two-colour phase, and this is one of the things for which the Wise Men can give no positive reason; so it is another question like those about the flight and travels of the birds for one of you to find out in future.

“Bring the box up to the orchard, Tommy, and, after we have seen the gray Screech Owls, you can open the door and put the box in the tree and see what will happen.”

Before they reached the gate of Birdland, they heard a commotion inside; Jays were screaming in a great state of rage and alarm, and, as they drew nearer, another sound blended with the screaming, a hissing sound like “shay—shay—shay,” and the snapping of beaks.

“The Jays have found the Owls out, and they’re hopping mad,” said Jacob, who was standing in the shelter of a tree-trunk, enjoying the scene. “The Jays daren’t really touch the Owls, only jeer, and the Owls only snap their beaks and hiss in return because they don’t like to fly out in bright light; all you get back by the fence and watch out.”

The children did as Jacob suggested and Tommy put his box on top of the wall and, at a signal from Gray Lady, unfastened the slats. At first the little Red Owl stretched his neck and snapped his beak; then, as he heard the voices of the Jays, he backed into the corner of the box and drew himself up thin and long, so that he did not look like the same bird that had been so plump and fluffy a few seconds before.

“That’s just the way he did this morning when I found him in the pigeon-house,” said Tommy; “in the dark he didn’t look a bit like a bird, but more like a corn-cob on end.

“There! look there, Gray Lady.” And Tommy pointed at a tree behind that in which the five Owls were roosting. “There is another Owl all by itself that the Jays haven’t found out, and it’s all drawn up thin just like my red one.” And, following the direction of his finger, the Owl was plainly to be seen, but so rigid and motionless that it might have been a moss-covered branch stump.

“We would better go in now,” said Gray Lady, after they had watched for a few moments. “The Owls are beginning to notice us, and I do not wish them to be driven away until I have had a chance to photograph them. Leave the box there, Tommy; with all this noise your Owl cannot be expected to come out before night.”

“But if they are good birds, what was the red one doing in Tommy’s pigeon-house?” asked Dave.

“Probably looking for mice or other vermin, or perhaps shelter,” said Gray Lady, “for though they sometimes eat large game, mice or smaller animals are easier food for a tribe of Owls that sometimes grow only six inches high and never to a foot in length. I will tell you a way to convince yourselves and make sure of what Owls feed upon without killing the Owls,” said Gray Lady, as, on their way up to the play and work rooms, they went into the library to look at some of the mounted birds in one of the cases.

“As Owls usually swallow their food whole, they take in bones, fur, feathers, etc., that they cannot digest; these portions are made up into little pellets called ‘Owl balls,’ and these are spit up before the real process of digestion is begun, and if you search under the trees where owls roost, you may often find these pellets for yourselves.”

“Maybe that is what these things are that I’ve found, for ever so many days, below the porch of the pigeon-house,” said Tommy, pulling a bunch of paper from his pocket; “I guess the Red Owl meant to live there this winter.” He spread out the paper before Gray Lady, who was now sitting at the table turning over the pages of a large book in red covers. It was a reference book, in two volumes, that she often used to look up stories of the birds about which the children asked. The name of the book was _Life Histories of North American Birds_, and they were written and collected by Major Bendire, who was both one of the Wise Men and an officer in our army. Putting in a mark at the page where Screech Owl began, she closed the book and looked at the contents of the paper.

“Yes, Tommy,” she said presently, “these are not only Owl balls, but there is the fur and bones of a mouse in each.” And deftly separating the wads with the point of a pair of scissors and taking out a tiny skull, she motioned the children to look at it through a reading-glass, each one in turn.

“Does the Screech Owl live everywhere in the United States?” asked Dave, after he and Tommy had picked out enough of the tiny bones from the fur to piece out the entire skeleton of a mouse.

“This same species of Screech Owl that we have here is found all through the eastern part of North America, but there is a Screech Owl, of some sort, to be found in the other parts of the country; thus, there is a Florida Screech Owl; one for California; another for the Rocky Mountains; one for Mexico, and one for Puget Sound, besides several others, and, of them all, the Rocky Mountain Owl is said to be the handsomest.

“We have several other owls that live hereabouts and do good work by killing rats, mice, snakes, lizards, etc. Of course, they also eat some birds, but they are so valuable to the farmer that he can ill spare them, and if he cannot, neither can we. Do you realize that it is really the farmer that holds the life of the country in his hand? What good would money and houses and clothes do us if we had no food?—and it is the farmer who, by carrying out the workings of nature, makes food possible.

“These birds of prey divide time between them, the Hawk works by day and the Owls at night and in the early dawn; thus, ‘Nature, in her wisdom, puts a continuous check upon the four-footed vermin of the ground.’

“Our little Screech Owls love old orchards and the hollow trees to be found there, and they are well suited to be guardians of the fruit trees. In hard winters, mice and rabbits will often eat the bark of young peach, pear, plum, and apple trees in such a way as to ruin them. Who can keep a constant watch upon them by day and night so well as the Hawks and Owls?—and if they do take an occasional chicken or pigeon, these are more easily replaced than fruit trees.

“Then, too, our little Screech Owl is a destroyer of cutworms, those dreadful worms that do their work by night. For this alone, should the farmer call this Owl his friend, and let him nest in any little hollow under the barn eaves, or in the old willow or sycamore, as he chooses. That is, if the few sticks and feathers that line the hollow can be called a nest.

“The courtship of the Owl begins late in March, for Owls, living, as they do, permanently in their homes, nest early; the Great Horned Owl, of deservedly savage reputation, beginning in February, and the round-faced Barred Owl in March. I have only seen the young Owls on their first coming from the nest—queer, fuzzy little balls, awkward in flight and noisy, who perch on a branch like a row of clothes-pins all day, and then spend their nights being fed, and in awkward attempts at learning to fly. Once, in my girlhood, I kept an Owl with a sprained wing in an outdoor cage for a couple of months, and he grew quite tame and was very clever and clean apparently, from the evidence of spilled water, taking a bath in his pan every night and keeping his feathers in good condition.

“Major Bendire tells of the courtship of these songless birds in a way that proves that where voice is lacking, gesture takes the place of speech, as with Grackles and Crows. ‘The female was perched in a dark, leafy tree, apparently oblivious of the presence of her mate, who made frantic efforts to attract her attention through a series of bowings, wing-raisings, and snapping of the beak. These antics were continued for some time, varied by hops from branch to branch near her, accompanied by that forlorn, almost despairing, wink peculiar to this bird. Once or twice I thought that I detected sounds of inward groanings as he, beside himself at lack of success, sat in utter dejection. At last the lady lowered her haughty head, looked at and approached him.’

“The young Owls when first hatched are blind and featherless, and are so ravenous that not only do their parents feed them at night but also put away enough food in the nest to last through the day as well, so you can easily see how useful a family of these Owls would be the neighbourhood of any farm.

THE SCREECH OWL’S VALENTINE

A Screech Owl once set out to find A comely mate of his own kind; Through wooded haunts and shadows dense He pressed his search with diligence; As a reward He soon espied A feathered figure, Golden-eyed.

“Good-night! my lady owl,” said he; “Will you accept my company?” He bowed and snapped, and hopped about, He wildly screamed, then looked devout. But no word came, His heart to cheer, From lady owl, That perched so near.

The suitor thought her hearing dull, And for her felt quite sorrowful. Again by frantic efforts he Did try to woo her from her tree; “Pray, loveliest owl, The forest’s pride, Descend and be My beauteous bride.

“A wedding feast of mice we’ll keep, When cats and gunners are asleep; We’ll sail like shadows cast at noon, Each night will be a honeymoon.” To this she answered Not one breath; But sat unmoved And still as death.

Said he, “I guess that she’s the kind That people in museums find; Some taxidermist by his skill Has stuffed the bird, she sits so still. Ah me! that eyes Once made to see Should naught But ghostly spectres be.”

At this she dropped her haughty head And cried, “I’m neither stuffed nor dead. Oh! weird and melancholy owl, Thou rival of the wolf’s dread howl, Since fate so planned, I’ll not decline To be for life Your valentine.”

—Florence A. Van Sant, in _Bird-Lore_.

“Are any of these other Owls here useful?” asked Sarah, who had been looking at the birds in the glass case while Gray Lady talked. “This great big one with feather horns looks as if he could eat a little lamb or a big rooster if he tried.”

“That is the Great Horned Owl,” said Gray Lady, “and fortunately he is very uncommon here in New England, for he is a cruel and wasteful bird, unsociable and sulky, killing chickens, and even turkeys and geese, and often merely eating the head of its victim and then killing again; it is the worst of all the birds of prey, and no excuse can be found for its behaviour.

“The Barred Owl on the shelf beside the Great Horned, though having a smooth head, is sometimes mistaken for the fierce Owl and shot for its sins. Aside from sometimes killing birds, it is a useful Owl, eating mice, rabbits, red squirrels, etc. This is a remote, lonely sort of an Owl, with a dismal hoot, as one man described it: ‘Hoo-ooo-ooo-ho-ho-ho-too-too-to-to!’ sometimes interspersed by a laugh and then a wail. I disturbed a young bird once, causing one of its parents great uneasiness. It is impossible to describe all the notes uttered by it at this time; they were rendered in a subdued muttering and complaining strain, parts of which sounded exactly like ‘old-fool, old-fool, don’t do it, don’t do it!’

“There are two other owls that are very useful; one is found all through the United States, and the other is a more southern species, found usually south of New England. The first is the Short-eared or Marsh Owl, and the other is the Barn Owl.

“All Owls, in a way, look very much alike, in spite of difference in colour and size. They have round, feathered heads, which they are obliged to turn around when they wish to look, as their eyes are so fixed in their sockets that they cannot roll them as other birds and animals do; some have feather horns and some do not. They all have talons, either covered by scales or feathers, with which they seize their food, which they swallow whole. But between the Barn Owl and his kin, the Horned, Hoot, and Screech Owls, there is a striking contrast.

“Look at those two in the case; they have round faces and circles of feathers about the eyes. The Barn Owl has a heart-shaped face-disk, about which the head-feathers cluster, making the bird look like a funny old lady in a cap. This is the Owl that is usually described in poetry—the Church Tower Owl, the Monkey-faced Owl, etc.

“While you look at this bird listen to some of the things that the Wise Men say of it.

“The Barn Owl, strictly speaking, makes no nest. If occupying a natural cavity of a tree, the eggs are placed on the rubbish that may have accumulated at the bottom; if in a bank, they are laid on the bare ground and among the pellets of fur and small bones ejected by the parents. Frequently, quite a lot of such material is found in their burrows, the eggs lying on, and among, the refuse. Incubation usually commences with the first egg laid, and lasts about three weeks. The eggs are almost invariably found in different stages of development, and downy young may be found in the same nest with fresh eggs. Both sexes assist in incubation. One of the best methods of studying the food habits of Owls is to gather the pellets which they disgorge. These consist of the undigested refuse of their food, hair, bones, feathers, etc. Sometimes enormous quantities of this refuse are found in the nesting-place of the Barn Owl, one recorded instance being two or three cubic feet. When the tired farmer is buried deep in slumber, and nature is repairing the waste of wearied muscles, this night-flying bird commences its beneficial work, which ceases only at the rising of the sun. All that has been written regarding the food of the Barn Owl shows it to be of inestimable value to agriculture. Major Bendire says: ‘Looked at from an economic standpoint, it would be difficult to point out a more useful bird than this Owl, and it deserves the fullest protection; but, as is too often the case, man, who should be its best friend, is generally the worst enemy it has to contend with, and it is ruthlessly destroyed by him, partly on account of its odd appearance and finely coloured plumage, but oftener from the erroneous belief that it destroys the farmer’s poultry.’

“In the West, the food of the Barn Owl consists very largely of pouched gophers, a specially destructive mammal, also ground-squirrels, rabbits, and insects. In the southern states large numbers of cotton rats are destroyed, a fact which should be appreciated by every planter.

“So you see, children, that those farmers who live within the range of the Barn Owl can not only safely let it nest under their roofs, but give the barn mice into its keeping, for it will do more good and less harm than the usual prowling cat.

“The Short-eared Owl is unlike his brethren in that his nest, lined with a few feathers or grass, is in a hollow in the ground or in a bunch of tall weeds or grasses. He is also what is called a cosmopolitan Owl, which means that he is equally at home in all parts of the country, and, during the migrations and in the winter, these Owls sometimes live in flocks of one hundred or more, which, considering the usual solitary habits of Owls, is something to remember particularly.

“As its nest is in moist, grassy meadows, so also does it spend much of its time in the open, shunning the deep woods beloved of other Owls, while it flies freely by day, except in the brightest weather. On cloudy days it flies low over the meadows, in which it searches carefully for its food. On the wing, it is easy and graceful, its flight being more like that of a Hawk than the heavy swoop of the Owl. Its wings are long in proportion to its body, which makes it appear very large when in flight.

“The Short-eared Owls delight in carrying their food to a hayrick or some such object, where they eat it at leisure. This same food of the Short-eared Owl, in itself, is a letter of recommendation,—for it consists of meadow-mice, gophers, and shrews (that are such a nuisance in the West), grasshoppers, insects, and occasionally a bird,—so that, like the Barn Owl and the Long-eared or Cat Owl, his brother, this bird deserves full protection.

“Another cause has done many an owl to death,—not his ‘fatal gift of beauty,’ that has made so many birds become bonnet martyrs, but the fact that the Owl looks so wise that he was supposed to be the favourite bird of Minerva, the goddess of wisdom. For this reason, people like to have stuffed Owls in their libraries to sit and look wise on a bookcase top.

“Thus many of the birds that have escaped the farmers have been shot by collectors for the taxidermists or bird-store folk. Now the Wise Men are making laws which will, we hope, protect the useful birds of prey from this fate as they do the beautiful songsters; but it is not enough to make laws, it is the business of each one of us to see that they are carried out.

“I have a very amusing poem about an Owl in my scrap-book. When you have read it, you may guess, if you can, to which Owl the author refers.”

THE EARLY OWL

An Owl once lived in a hollow tree, And he was as wise as wise could be. The branch of learning he didn’t know Could scarce on the tree of knowledge grow; He knew the tree from branch to root, And an Owl like that can afford to hoot.

And he hooted until, alas! one day He chanced to hear in a casual way An insignificant little bird Make use of a term he had never heard. He was flying to bed in the dawning light, When he heard her singing with all her might: “Hurray! hurray! for the early worm!” “Dear me,” said the Owl, “what a singular term! I would look it up if it weren’t so late. I must rise at dusk to investigate. Early to bed and early to rise Makes an Owl healthy, and stealthy, and wise!”

So he slept like an honest Owl all day, And rose in the early twilight gray, And went to work in the dusky light To look for the early worm at night. He searched the country for miles around, But the early worm was not to be found; So he went to bed in the dawning light And looked for the “worm” again next night. And again and again, and again and again, He sought and he sought, but all in vain, Till he must have looked for a year and a day For the early worm in the twilight gray.

At last in despair he gave up the search, And was heard to remark as he sat on his perch, By the side of his nest in the hollow tree: “The thing is as plain as the night to me— Nothing can shake my conviction firm; There’s no such thing as the early worm.”

—Oliver Herford.

“I can’t tell exactly which it was,” said Tommy Todd, when he was through laughing; “but I know which it wasn’t—it wasn’t the Short-eared Owl, for he doesn’t get up to breakfast at night, and so if he had looked for the early worm he would have found him.”

THREE USEFUL HAWKS

_The Marsh Hawk, Harrier, Blue Hawk._

_Length_: 17-19 inches; female averaging two inches longer.

_Male_: Above, bluish gray; below, white mottled with brown; wings brownish, long, and pointed; tail long; upper tail-coverts white.

The Marsh Hawk is the most harmless and beneficial of its family; it feeds upon reptiles, locusts, grasshoppers, and small mammals, and never disturbs domestic poultry.

In this locality it is more plentiful in the bogs near fresh ponds, and in the vicinity of rivers, than in the salt-marshes.

It is the summer-day Hawk, and the species most frequently seen in the warmest months. It flies by night as well as day, however, and is often a companion of the Screech Owl in its nocturnal rambles.

_The Red-shouldered Hawk_

_Length_: 18-19 inches. Also miscalled “Hen-hawk.” The Sharp-shinned Hawk and Cooper’s Hawk are the real “Hen-hawks.”

_Male_: Grayish brown above; feathers edged with rusty brown; wings barred black and white; “shoulder” rusty red; tail black, and barred and tipped with slate; black streaks on throat; underparts buff.

One of the large Hawks; to be distinguished by a rust-red shoulder patch; is the most common of the long, broad-winged Buzzard Hawks that are seen flying in circles in the days of autumn and early spring. It kills field-mice and other gnawers.

_The American Sparrow Hawk_

_Length_: 10 inches.

_Male_: Reddish back barred with black; reddish tail, with black band and white tip; head with reddish spot on crown, slaty blue, as are also wings, the latter having white bars; a black mark back and front of ear; underparts varying from cream to buff.

A very handsome bird, though somewhat of a cannibal; the Wise Men wish him protected for the following reasons:—

“When in doubt regarding the identity of a small Hawk, give the benefit of the doubt to the Hawk, and refrain from killing it, for you may thus spare a valuable bird, belonging to a species that during every twelve months renders service to the agricultural industry of the country that is far beyond computation, but if measured in dollars and cents would reach to very high figures.

“This appeal for protection of the Sparrow Hawks, and the statements as to their value, would be worthless if they could not be supported by _facts_.

“Dr. Fisher summarizes as follows: ‘The subject of this Hawk is one of great interest, and, considered in its economic bearings, is one that should be carefully studied. The Sparrow Hawk is almost exclusively insectivorous, except when insect food is difficult to obtain. In localities where grasshoppers and crickets are abundant, these Hawks congregate, often in moderate-sized flocks, and gorge themselves continuously. Rarely do they touch any other form of food until, either by advancing season or other natural causes, the grasshopper crop is so lessened that their hunger cannot be appeased without undue exertion. Then other kinds of insects and other forms of life contribute to their fare, and beetles, spiders, mice, shrews, small snakes, lizards, or even birds may be required to bring up the balance.