ry broad faces and large tufted heads of the
true owls; besides the ears, which in the latter are remarkable for
their size, and also for being operculated, or with lids, in the former
are not much larger than in other birds of prey. The small hawk-owl
(_Strix funerea_), which is altogether a Northern bird, is one of this
kind."

"Very well," continued Norman, "what you say may be very true, cousin
Luce; I only know that the bird I am speaking about is a mighty curious
little creature. It ain't bigger than a pigeon, and is of a
mottled-brown colour; but what I call it curious for is this:--Whenever
it sees any creature passing from place to place, it mounts up into the
air, and hovers above them, keeping up a constant screeching, like the
squalling of a child--and that's anything but agreeable. It does so,
not only in the neighbourhood of its nest--like the plover and some
other birds--but it will sometimes follow a travelling party for hours
together, and for miles across the country. From this circumstance the
Indians of these parts call it the `alarm bird,' or `bird of warning,'
because it often makes them aware of the approach either of their
enemies or of strangers. Sometimes it alarms and startles the game,
while the hunter is crawling up to it; and I have known it to bother
myself for a while of a day, when I was after grouse. It's a great
favourite with the Indians though--as it often guides them to deer, or
musk-oxen, by its flying and screaming above where these animals are
feeding.

"Just in the same way it guided me. I knew, from the movements of the
bird, that there must be something among the rocks. I couldn't tell
what, but I hoped it would turn out to be some creature that was
eatable; so I changed my intention, and struck out for the place where
it was.

"It was a good half-mile from the hill, and it cost me considerable
clambering over the rocks, before I reached the ground. I thought to
get near enough to see what it was, without drawing the bird upon
myself, and I crouched from hummock to hummock; but the sharp-eyed
creature caught sight of me, and came screeching over my head. I kept
on without noticing it; but as I was obliged to go round some large
rocks, I lost the direction, and soon found myself wandering back into
my own trail. I could do nothing, therefore, until the bird should
leave me, and fly back to whatever had first set it a-going. In order
that it might do so, I crept