The sub-family Syrniinæ contains only three genera, the Horned Owls (Asio[223]), the Wood Owls (Syrnium[224]), and the Tengmalm’s Owl (Nyctala[225] tengmalmi), the latter having been already noticed (p. 297) as possessing the curious difference in the ear-opening on each side of the skull. Of the Horned Owls two species are found in the British Islands, viz., the Short-eared Owl (Asio accipitrinus[226]), and the Long-eared Owl (A. otus[227]). The former of these birds is often seen in the daytime, and is said to hunt for its prey on dull days, when it will fly at small birds as well as mice; and Mr. Low, writing on the birds of the Orkneys, where the Short-eared Owl breeds, says that he has found in the nest the remains of a Moor-fowl (Red Grouse), two Plovers, besides the feet of several others; and the same writer states that during the breeding season it becomes very impudent, and will even seize and catch up chickens from the doors, and also chase pigeons in open daylight. Although resident in the British Islands, a large migration of the species takes place in autumn, and it is not unfrequently shot by sportsmen in the turnip-fields; while Bewick mentions the recurrence of twenty-eight individuals being flushed in a turnip-field in November, being probably attracted to the locality by an abundance of food. It may also be occasionally found in marshes near the sea-shore, as occurred once to the writer, who started a Short-eared Owl from the sedgy bank on the west side of Pagham Harbour, in the early part of September. When winged, it boldly faced its pursuer, erecting the little tufts on its head and fiercely snapping its bill, as is the manner with all Owls in defending themselves.

FACE OF THE BARN OWL.

Its relation, the Long-eared Owl, is a bird of different habits, and, instead of breeding on the ground as the foregoing species does, it selects a dark wood or clump of firs, appropriating a deserted Squirrel’s “dray,” or adapting the nest of another bird to its own requirements. Macgillivray gives the following account of a young specimen which he had in confinement:—“An individual of this species, which was sent to me in winter by the Rev. Mr. Adam, having been left at night perched on the back of a chair in my drawing-room, tore to tatters six valuable skins of birds from the Rocky Mountains, and an equal number of nearly equally rare specimens from India. A young bird which I kept for some time, on perching, stood at first with the body inclined, afterwards nearly erect, and slept in the latter posture, with its neck rather extended, its feathers drawn close, and its tufts recumbent. When irritated, it raised its plumage, threw its body forward, and uttered a sharp cry. It seized its food with its bill; if large, transferred it to one of its feet, but if otherwise, retained it in its bill. In flying, it carried a small object in its bill, but a larger in its foot. It could close one eye while the other remained open, and when placed in a strong light, frequently drew the membrane over the lighted eye, while the other remained unsheathed, though for the most part it winked with both simultaneously. The irides contracted unequally, according to the degree of light. When perched at night, it sometimes emitted a clicking noise, like that of a spring, with its bill; but when provoked, it neither hissed nor snapped, but uttered a shrill, tremulous, plaintive cry, or succession of short notes, erecting its tufts at the same time.”

THE BARN OWL (Strix[228] flammea[229]).

This is essentially the friend of man, frequenting villages and homesteads where he is protected, and extending his range where civilisation precedes him, being attracted doubtless by the Mice and Rats, which are also the accompaniments of civilisation. The number of small mammals which one of these birds will devour ought to be his passport to the protecting care of the farmer and agriculturist, but it is seldom that an Owl of any kind meets with approval on taking up his residence on an estate. Facts, however, are stubborn things, and in the hope that a more generous reception may be afforded to these useful birds, the following quotation is made from Professor Newton:—“Owls, like other birds of prey, as already mentioned, return by the mouth the indigestible parts of the food swallowed in the form of elongated pellets. These are found in considerable numbers about the usual haunts of the birds, and examination of them reveals the nature of the food, and shows in nearly every case the great services they render to man by the destruction of Rats and Mice.”[230] The infallibility of the evidence thus afforded as to the food of the Owls is as complete as the way of obtaining it, by those who have the opportunity, is simple. Several German naturalists have made some very precise researches on this subject. The following results, with regard to the three commonest species of Owls, are those afforded by the investigations of Dr. Altam, as communicated by him to the German Ornithologists’ Society during its meeting in 1862:—

REMAINS FOUND.

No. of
Pellets
examined.

Bats.

Rats.

Mice.

Voles.

Shrews.

Moles.

Birds.

Beetles.

Tawny Owl

210

6

 42

296

   33

48

18

48

Long-eared Owl

 25

  6

 35

 2

Barn Owl

706

16

3

237

693

1,590

22

Colonel Irby, in the work which has already been alluded to, says of the Barn Owl:—“Almost exclusively feeding on Rats and Mice, they deserve every encouragement and support that can be afforded them; but from being in all countries regarded with superstitious awe and dislike, they are more or less persecuted on that account; and in England, through the ignorance and stupidity of gamekeepers, who fancy that they kill game (i.e., feathered game), they suffer most severely. This excuse is ridiculous, for old birds they have not the power to kill, and young Pheasants and Partridges, at the time the Owls are on the feed, are safely being brooded by the parent bird.” Those who wish to encourage and increase Owls, and have not hollow trees or buildings where they nest, may always gratify their wishes by fixing an empty barrel (about an 18-gallon size) horizontally in the fork of any large tree, cutting a hole in one end large enough for the birds to enter; but the hoops of the cask should be screwed on, or it will soon fall to pieces. Not only the Barn Owl, but the Tawny Owl (Syrnium aluco) also will use barrels, or “Owl-tubs.” The difficulty, however, is to keep out the Jackdaws, but when once the Owls have established themselves, there is no fear of that intrusion. The late Mr. Waterton was a well-known admirer of the present species, and he devotes one of his “Essays on Natural History” to the Barn Owl, from which a few passages are extracted:—“Up to the year 1813 the Barn Owl had a sad time of it at Walton Hall. Its supposed mournful notes alarmed the aged housekeeper. She knew full well what sorrow it had brought into other houses when she was a young woman, and there was enough of mischief in the midnight wintry blast, without having it increased by the dismal screams of something which people knew very little about, and which everybody said was far too busy in the churchyard at night-time. Nay, it was a well-known fact, that if any person were sick in the neighbourhood it would be for ever looking in at the window, and holding a conversation outside with somebody, they did not know whom. The gamekeeper agreed with her in everything she said on this important subject, and he always stood better in her books when he had managed to shoot a bird of this bad and mischievous family. However, in 1813, on my return from the wilds of Guiana, having suffered myself, and learned mercy, I broke in pieces the code of penal laws which the knavery of the gamekeeper and the lamentable ignorance of the other servants had hitherto put in force, far too successfully, to thin the numbers of this poor, harmless, unsuspecting tribe. On the ruin of the old gateway, against which tradition says the waves of the lake have dashed for the greater part of a thousand years, I made a place with stone and mortar, about four feet square, and fixed a thick oaken stick firmly into it. Huge masses of ivy now quite cover it. In about a month or so after it was finished a pair of Barn Owls came and took up their abode in it. I threatened to strangle the keeper if ever, after this, he molested either the old birds or their young ones; and I assured the housekeeper that I would take upon myself the whole responsibility of all the sickness, woe, and sorrow that the new tenants might bring to the Hall. She made a low courtesy, as much as to say, ‘Sir, I fall into your will and pleasure,’ but I saw in her eye that she had made up her mind to have to do with things of fearful and portentous shape, and to hear many a midnight wailing in the neighbouring woods. I do not think that up to the day of this old lady’s death, which took place in her eighty-fourth year, she ever looked with pleasure or contentment on the Barn Owl, as it flew round the large sycamore trees which grow near the ruined gateway.

“When I found that this first settlement on the gateway had succeeded so well, I set about forming other establishments. This year I have had four broods, and I trust that next season I can calculate on having nine. This will be a pretty increase, and it will help to supply the place of those which in this neighbourhood are still unfortunately doomed to death by the hand of cruelty or superstition. We can now always have a peep at the Owls in their habitation on the old ruined gateway whenever we choose. Confident of protection, these pretty birds betray no fear when the stranger mounts up to their place of abode. I would here venture a surmise that the Barn Owl sleeps standing. Whenever we go to look at it we invariably see it upon the perch, bolt upright, and often with its eyes closed, apparently fast asleep. Buffon and Bewick err, no doubt unintentionally, when they say that the Barn Owl snores during its repose. What they took for snoring was the cry of the young birds for food. I had fully satisfied myself on this score some years ago. However, in December, 1823, I was much astonished to hear this same snoring kind of noise, which had been so common in the month of July. On ascending the ruin, I found a brood of young Owls in the apartment.