rotective coloring virtually invisible
to every eye that does not know he is there. Probably my own is the
only eye that has ever penetrated his secret, and mine never would
have done so had I not chanced on one occasion to see him leave his
retreat and make a raid upon a shrike that was impaling a shrew-mouse
upon a thorn in a neighboring tree, and which I was watching. Failing
to get the mouse, the owl returned swiftly to his cavity, and ever
since, while going that way, I have been on the lookout for him.
Dozens of teams and foot-passengers pass him late in the day, but he
regards them not, nor they him. When I come along and pause to salute
him, he opens his eyes a little wider, and, appearing to recognize me,
quickly shrinks and fades into the background of his door in a very
weird and curious manner. When he is not at his outlook, or when he
is, it requires the best powers of the eye to decide the point, as the
empty cavity itself is almost an exact image of him. If the whole
thing had been carefully studied, it could not have answered its
purpose better. The owl stands quite perpendicular, presenting a front
of light mottled gray; the eyes are closed to a mere slit, the
ear-feathers depressed, the beak buried in the plumage, and the whole
attitude is one of silent, motionless waiting and observation. If a
mouse should be seen crossing the highway, or scudding over any
exposed part of the snowy surface in the twilight, the owl would
doubtless swoop down upon it. I think the owl has learned to
distinguish me from the rest of the passers-by; at least, when I stop
before him, and he sees himself observed, he backs down into his den,
as I have said, in a very amusing manner. Whether bluebirds,
nuthatches, and chickadees--birds that pass the night in cavities of
trees--ever run into the clutches of the dozing owl, I should be glad
to know. My impression is, however, that they seek out smaller
cavities. An old willow by the roadside blew down one summer, and a
decayed branch broke open, revealing a brood of half-fledged owls, and
many feathers and quills of bluebirds, orioles, and other songsters,
showing plainly enough why all birds fear and berate the owl.

The English house sparrows, which are so rapidly increasing among us,
and which must add greatly to the food supply of the owls and other
birds of prey, seek to baffle their enemies by roosting in the densest
evergreens they can find, in the arbor-vitae, and in hem