“The slow and dismal notes of the Horned Owl fell on the ear, with startling nearness.”
Page [112].
“No!” said Uncle Thomas; “it is only particular species which are so ornamented. They are, however, improperly called ‘horns,’ and sometimes ‘ears,’ as the protuberance consists merely of a little bunch of feathers, without any corresponding configuration of the skull; indeed, in some species the tuft is imperceptible when the bird is in a state of repose, but is elevated whenever its attention is excited; so that in a dead bird it requires a very careful examination to perceive them.
“In ancient times,” continued Uncle Thomas, “the Owl was regarded as the symbol of wisdom; and in the present day a superstition of the same kind lingers among the North American Indians. We are told that among the Creeks the younger priests constantly wear a white mantle, and have a skin of the Great White Northern Owl cased and stuffed very ingeniously, so well executed as almost to appear like the living bird, having large sparkling glass beads, or buttons, fixed in the head for eyes. This insignia of wisdom and divination they wear sometimes as a crest on the top of the head, at other times the image sits on the arm, or is borne in the hand. The bearers are also distinguished from other people by their taciturnity, grave and solemn countenance, dignified step, and by their singing to themselves songs or hymns, in a low sweet voice as they stroll about the town.
“Owls,” continued Uncle Thomas, “have been remarked as showing very great affection for their young, frequently visiting them and feeding them long after they have been taken from the nest, and even when placed in a state of confinement. It is thus that we get glimpses of the surpassing wisdom and beauty of the works of the Almighty. The whole of the Owl tribe, as I have already told you, are extremely voracious feeders; and in the earlier stages of their existence, from the time that they leave the nest until their powers are sufficiently matured to enable them to provide entirely for themselves, they must be unable to procure sufficient food to satisfy their almost insatiable appetite. Here, then, is both the necessity and the cause for this extraordinary affection, of which I will by and by give you one or two examples. If the parent Owls were not endowed with this extraordinary affection, the young would starve, and the race soon become extinct. A young Owl having, on one occasion, escaped from the nest before it was fully fledged, was caught and placed in a hen-coop. To the surprise of the captors, in the morning a fine young Partridge was found lying dead before the door of its place of confinement. For fourteen days the same mark of attention was repeated, the provision sometimes consisting of one kind, and sometimes of another. Though he well knew whence the supply proceeded, the gentleman to whom the captured bird belonged kept watch for several nights, accompanied by his servant, to observe when and how the supply was brought, but they watched in vain. So long as they remained at the window nothing was brought, but whenever it was left for a short time unoccupied, the Owls deposited their provision and escaped unobserved. This continued till the usual time when the Owls leave their young to shift for themselves.”
“I suppose if one was to attempt to rob an Owl’s nest of its young, it would fight very fiercely,” said Harry.
“Some of the species are occasionally very bold in defence of their nestlings,” said Uncle Thomas; “and, if their territory is invaded, evince great alarm. A carpenter, some years ago, passing through a field near Gloucester, was suddenly attacked by an Owl that had a nest in a tree near the pathway. It flew at his head, and the man struck at it with his adze that he had in his hand, but missed his blow. The enraged bird repeated the attack, and fastening her talons in his face, lacerated him very severely.
“Before I conclude my account of the Owl,” continued Uncle Thomas, “I must tell you of a very curious experiment made by a gentleman named Waterton, who lives in Yorkshire. Some years ago he resolved to establish a colony of Owls, and accordingly had a dwelling made for them on the ruins of an old gateway. The place was about four feet square, a nice perch was fixed for them to sit upon, and the ivy which grew round the gateway was trained to cover and conceal the whole. In about a month after these preparations were made for their reception, it was duly examined and fixed upon as a desirable place of residence by a pair of Barn Owls. Their example was soon followed, and in time not only filled the ‘ivy mantled tower,’ but extended into the trees in the vicinity. Mr. Waterton had so constructed the tower that he could see into the colony without disturbing the Owls, and as they were never injured, they soon became familiar, showing no symptoms of fear, even when strangers mounted the ladder to look into their retreat.”
“How very curious!” said Mary.
“Singular it certainly is,” said Uncle Thomas, “but it has other and better qualities to recommend it. From diligently observing the habits of the Owls, Mr. Waterton discovered several curious facts connected with their natural history, which, besides their interest merely as pieces of information, are very useful, and show the adaptation of the various parts of the creation to each other. For instance, the Owl is by many persons deemed a noxious creature, and is hunted and killed whenever opportunity offers. On the contrary, it is one of the greatest friends of mankind. Mr. Waterton estimates that when the Owls have their broods to provide for, they bring to the nest from four to five mice every hour, so that in the course of a year the quantity of mice consumed must be immense: how much to the advantage of the farmer’s crop it is impossible to say. Again, whenever an Owl is discovered near a pigeon-house, it is immediately attacked and killed, from the idea that they destroy the young pigeons. Mr. Waterton’s observations show that, instead of doing damage, they are of great use in freeing such places from Rats and other vermin, by which they are generally frequented, and his remarks are confirmed by other observers. A person whose Pigeons were frequently destroyed laid it to the charge of a pair of Owls which visited the dove-cot. He accordingly watched, and at last shot one of the birds as it flew out. On picking it up, however, he was astonished to find that, instead of a young Pigeon, its prey consisted of a huge Rat. Mr. Waterton’s experience amounted to this: as soon as the Rats were excluded from his pigeon-house, the Pigeons rapidly increased in number, notwithstanding that it continued to be frequented by the Owls, and they were encouraged all about the place. On one occasion, when he was seeking to destroy some Rats, he killed a large one as it emerged from its hole. Expecting to get another shot, he remained still, and allowed the Rat to lie where it had fallen. In a short time a Barn Owl pounced upon it and carried it off, though, had it chosen, it might as readily have flown into the Pigeon-house and feasted on the young brood.