first thing I did after leaving here was to climb the hill
yonder"--here Norman pointed to a long hill that sloped up from the
opposite shore of the lake, and which was the direction he had taken, as
Basil and Francois had gone right and left.

I saw neither bird, beast, nor track, until I had reached the top of
the hill. There I got a good view of the country ahead. I saw it was
very rocky, without a stick of timber, and did not look very promising
for game. "It's no use going that way," I says to myself; "I'll keep
along the ridge, above where Frank's gone. He may drive some varmint out
of the hollow, and I'll get a crack at it, as it comes over the hill.

"I was about to turn to the left when I heard the skreek of a bird away
ahead of me. I looked in that direction; and, sure enough, saw one
wheeling about in the air, right above the rocky jumble with which the
country was covered.

"Now it's a mighty curious bird that I saw. It's a sort of an owl, but,
I should say myself, there's a sprinkling of the hawk in it--for it's as
much like the one as the other."

"No doubt," interrupted Lucien, "it was one of the day owls of these
Northern regions, some of which approach very near to the hawks, both in
shape and habits. This peculiarity arises from the fact of the long
summer day--of weeks in duration--within the Arctic circle, requiring
them to hunt for their prey, just as hawks do; and therefore Nature has
gifted them with certain peculiarities that make them resemble these
birds. They want the very 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 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