_Strix pratincola._
_Strix flammea_, +Wilson+.
_Strix pratincola_, +Bonap.+
_Strix Americana_, +Aud.+ pl. 171.
[7] Length 17 inches, expanse 46, tail 5³⁄₄, flexure 13¹⁄₂, rictus
2, tarsus 3¹⁄₄, middle toe 1³⁄₈, claw 1.
Though Wilson has introduced this bird into his American Ornithology,
and described it apparently from native specimens, his very meagre
notes of its manners are those of its European representative, the
bird being very rare in the United States. In Jamaica it is not at all
uncommon, though little seen by day. I have been accustomed to see
one nearly every evening, emerge from some lofty woods on a hill just
above Bluefields, soon after sunset, and fly heavily over the pasture
and house, uttering a querulous cry, _kep, kep, kep_, in a sharp tone,
without intermission. Sometimes it was followed by another, and both
would betake themselves to a large cotton-tree at the border of the
opposite woods, where they would alight on the topmost boughs, and
after sitting quiet awhile, resume their flight and their cry together.
At other times, one or two are heard, and dimly seen by the light
of the moon, slowly flying over the pasture in a large circle. Its
motion is noiseless in itself, but almost always accompanied by this
monotonous cry; it usually flies high, but remarkably slowly. I had
been informed that it sometimes screams shrilly when flying, but this
I had not heard, until I had been familiar with the bird in this way,
for more than a year. But one night as I lay awake at Content, in St.
Elizabeth’s, I heard a harsh screech twice repeated, which I at once
suspected to be the voice of the White Owl, and presently this was
confirmed by the _kep, kep_, of one which was evidently flying round
the house, and continued for some time within hearing. And one evening,
about three months afterwards, just as the west horizon had faded from
its glowing gold to a dull ruddy hue, I heard a Screech Owl flying from
the hill as usual over the pasture; when it was overhead, but at a
height of perhaps three hundred feet, it suddenly intermitted the _kep,
kep_, by a loud scream; then _kep, kep_ again, and soon another scream,
and by and by another, as it slowly flew along.
This Owl does not seem to affect the deep forests, although it haunts
shady places in the vicinity of estates and open grounds, doubtless
because in such places its prey abounds. Among these groves it is
sometimes seen flitting on soft and silent wing during the day, when
it does not usually cry. About the middle of October, passing through
the extensive and beautiful Pen, called Mount Edgecumbe, where the
smooth-barked pimento trees grow from the grassy sward, as in a park,
my attention was called to a large space walled in, which my negro
lad, Sam, told me was a “Spanish hole.” Curiosity led me to examine
it. On getting over the wall, which was only a fence of dry stones,
to protect the cattle from falling in, I found myself in an area of
about eighty feet in diameter, in the centre of which yawned a vast pit
nearly circular in form, about forty feet wide, and as many in depth.
The edge overhung in every part, consisting of sharp limestone rock,
so that there seemed at first no means of getting down. Some trees,
however, were growing from the bottom, a few being of large size, and
all of great height and smoothness, almost wholly of one kind, the
bread-nut (_Brosimum alicastrum_). On carefully searching round, we
found a slender tree growing so close to the edge as to afford a ready
means of sliding down by, but so smooth that Sam was very reluctant to
essay it, doubting his power to climb up again. It was with a hope of
finding it the resort of owls or bats, that I had determined to examine
it, and while we were discussing the possibility of reascending, a
large White Owl suddenly flew up, and after flitting round once or
twice, sailed away towards the woods. While I was peering into the
remote corners, I discerned on a huge flat rock beneath the cavernous
sides, what seemed a young bird, snow-white, and of large size,
together with several eggs. This made me more urgent on my lad, and
after much persuasion, and the promise to procure ropes, and assistance
without delay, in case of need, he at length sprang off, and slid down
the tree. By means of a long and tough smilax, which I afterwards
used to measure the depth, I passed down to him in succession the
gun and the basket; and he proceeded to explore the dungeon. It was
evidently formed by nature; for from the overhanging sides depended
stalactites of various sizes and forms, in points and festoons, some
of the smallest of which he broke off; they were of a rough dead-white
surface, but the fracture displayed shining crystals. In one corner
were two or three holes of less than a foot in diameter, into one of
which he thrust a stick several yards long; it met no bottom, and on
being let go, instantly slid out of sight. In another corner lay some
immense masses of stone, so large, as to leave a comparatively small
space beneath the rocky roof. On one of these lay the object of the
enterprise. The lad having clambered up the rocks, was saluted on
his approach by a loud hissing from one of the ugliest creatures he
had ever beheld; so that he hesitated to touch it. I encouraged him,
however; for from the top I could witness all that took place; and he
at length opened the basket, and with a stick tumbled the young bird
in. Not the least vestige of a nest, nor of any apology for one, was
there; but the bird had reposed on a broad mass of half-digested hair,
mingled profusely with the bones of rats and birds; half of a rat lay
there, freshly killed, the fore parts being devoured. At a little
distance from the bird lay, on the same mass, three eggs, in no wise to
be distinguished from those of a hen, in form, size, or colour, save
that they were scarcely equal to the _average_ size of hen’s eggs. I
may add that, on emptying them afterwards, I found them to contain only
a fluid apparently homogeneous, glairy, but turbid, like very thin
paste. They were not collected for sitting, neither being within six
inches of another. No sooner had Sam descended, than the old Owl again
appeared; but, after flying round the mouth of the pit, and settling
for an instant on one of the trees, she flew off again; and though,
when we had secured the young and eggs, we waited long in expectation
of her return, she came no more while we remained. Having passed up
the things by the brier, the lad _shinned_ up the tree without much
difficulty, and we proceeded home with our young charge. On taking him
out, I found him a strange figure indeed: the head long, and sparingly
clothed with down; the curved beak, with its flesh-coloured cere; the
immense orbits of the eyes marked by a white ring of small down, and
the top and back of the head, and all the body besides, thickly clothed
with white down of exquisite softness, strongly reminding me of a
hair-dresser’s powder-puff. The tips of the wings displayed the budding
quills, but they bore the singular appearance of flesh-coloured tubes,
crowned with a divergent tuft of down. The hinder parts were, as usual
in young birds, large and protuberant, and there was not a vestige of
a tail as yet. The feet and legs were well developed, and the bird
sometimes stood up on them, but more usually rested on the whole sole,
in an upright, but most grotesque attitude. The clothing down was of
the purest white, except that in a few parts, as the back of the head
and neck, the shoulders, and the elbow of the wing, it was slightly
tinged with a delicate buff, hardly discernible. He was a very cross
fellow, biting spitefully at everything presented to him, and sometimes
at the boards around him, without any provocation; but the beak, though
sharp and hooked, was not moved by sufficient muscular power to hurt
the hand. He was almost constantly hissing; particularly, but not only,
when approached, giving out a sound, that for character, and really
almost for volume, may be likened to that produced by the rushing forth
of steam from the waste-pipe of an engine. While I was bringing him
home, he discharged from the stomach a hard and very dry pellet, an
inch in diameter, and about three in length, composed of rats’ hair and
bones, showing that he was habitually fed with prey as taken, perhaps
simply divided, and not with half-digested matter from the stomach of
the mother. I found, however, that though it would bite at any object,
it had no notion of eating; a bit of flesh seized in the beak being
invariably dropped in a second or two. I therefore crammed it, giving
it portions of the bodies of small birds and lizards, forcing them into
its throat; an operation the less difficult, as the gullet is enormous.
The portions remained in the fauces for a few moments, and were then
swallowed. When standing up, or sitting, gazing with apparent curiosity
at any person near, it was perpetually swaying deliberately from side
to side; sometimes it lost its balance and fell over. The irides were
black, but the pupils pale blue. It lay down to sleep, resting the side
of its head on the floor.
In the course of a few days it began to seize food when presented
to it, which it swallowed eagerly; and I was astonished to see how
large morsels it would swallow, such as the undivided body of a large
Noctilio, which it could hardly receive into its mouth. The coloured
feathers now began to protrude from the lengthening quill-tubes, and I
perceived that the tuft of down was slightly attached to the point of
the feather, and was deciduous; or rather, that it consisted of very
fine and loosely barbed prolongations of the ordinary beards of the
vane, very closely resembling in texture the barbs of an ostrich-plume.
When it became a little stronger, so that it could support itself a
moment on one foot, it began to manifest a singular habit in eating.
Almost invariably, henceforth, as soon as it had snatched a piece of
flesh, which it did ravenously, it chewed it a moment with the tips of
the mandibles; this had the effect of pressing out the morsel on each
side so that it protruded. One foot was then brought up under the chin,
and thrown forward with a clutching motion, two toes being on each side
the beak; this was awkwardly performed, being repeated several times
before the morsel was grasped; and the bird often stumbled about on
the other foot, or nearly fell over. When the foot had clutched the
flesh, it was held in the toes, until the beak could seize it in a
more favourable position for swallowing. Then, by repeated tossings of
the head, the morsel was _thrown_, as it were, little by little into
the fauces. All the while it was eating, even when the throat seemed
quite closed by the descending food, the whistling hiss was maintained
with incessant pertinacity. Indeed, this sound, harsh and deafening as
it was, scarcely ever ceased, except when the bird was sleeping. It
was exceedingly vigilant; the smallest sound, even a light foot-fall,
would arouse it, and awaken this most unmusical noise. It was more than
usually loud when the bird was hungry, and doubly so at the moment when
food was presented to it, as, in its ravenous eagerness to seize, it
frequently missed from its hurried motion. Sometimes, when its belly
was full, it substituted a quivering whistle, in a very high key,
emitted, I believe, through the nostrils. The fæces were very fluid,
and resembled a thin solution of lime; they left a chalky deposit,
pulverulent: and were not at all fœtid. It seemed to have no desire for
drinking. On the 1st of November it died, having been in my care about
a fortnight.
Soon after this, my lad Sam being again near the _Spanish-hole_,
looked in, and discerned the old Owl sitting on the same spot, and on
the 12th, I again visited it. On peeping cautiously over the wall, I
discerned her on the rock, and fired; but merely wounding her, she
retreated into one of the cavities, so that Sam, on descending, could
not find her. There were four eggs, which were placed close together,
but in no nest. Another Owl, doubtless the mate, flew at the report
of the gun from somewhere near the margin, opposite to the female’s
side: but though we made considerable noise in entering the area, and
in talking, the boy in descending discovered him perched still near the
margin of the cavern. At length, however, he flew off. As the sitting
bird had concealed herself, and could not be found, I determined to
leave the eggs untouched, presuming she would soon return to them.
In the course of half-an-hour I returned, and had the satisfaction
of seeing her again on the eggs: I fired, and this time not vainly.
In her fall she crushed one of the eggs, which had evidently been in
contact with the skin of her abdomen, that part being wholly denuded of
feathers. The remaining eggs were advanced towards hatching in _very
different degrees_, and one was found on dissection in the oviduct of
the bird, completely shelled, and ready for deposition. The yolk of
this was small in quantity, and of a pale yellow tint. Other eggs in
the ovary were from the size of large shot downward.
About the middle of October, my notice was drawn to some Owls, which
were said to make nightly visits to a certain tree in a provision
ground at Belmont. I visited the spot the next evening, after sunset;
it was a large cotton-tree, with a spur more than usually immense
and uncouth. The rounded top of this spur was the scene of the Owls’
gambols: as I approached, I heard them uttering the same harsh sound,
half hiss, half scream, that had characterized the young one. As it was
nearly dark, their white forms were indistinct, and before I could get
within range, they, whose senses were now vigilant and acute, perceived
me, and flew to a neighbouring tree, whence they presently removed to a
distance. On the following evening I took care to be on the watch soon
after sunset: presently I heard the well-known cry _kep, kep_; and the
bird, arriving on noiseless wing, took up its station on one of the
lofty limbs of the cotton tree. It called in this manner for a minute
or two, when the other came flying from another direction, uttering the
same sound, and likewise alighted on a limb not far from the former. As
it was growing dark, and I was anxious to procure specimens, I fired at
one, and brought it down with the wing wounded. It retreated into one
of the dark recesses of the spurs, and fought bravely before I could
get hold of it, snapping the beak, and trying to bite. When brought to
the house, its attitudes and motions were exactly the same as those
of the young above described: it would stand for hours on the same
spot, gazing intently with its large liquid eyes, at any one before
it: swaying slowly from side to side, with the head depressed and
protruded, as if to get a better view of the object of its attention.
If approached, it opened and snapped the beak; but if pressed, it fell
backward on the tail, presenting both feet to clutch: which it did with
effect.
Mr. Hill mentions to me a third species of Owl, small in size, and of a
brown hue, but I know not any of its generic or specific characters.
+Order.+—PASSERES. (_Perchers._)
+Fam.+—CAPRIMULGIDÆ.—(_The Nightjars._)