THE SILENT QUILLED TIGER OF THE NIGHT

Few, if any, wildlife creatures have to live down a Dr. Jeckel and Mr. Hyde reputation as does the owl. Ancient Greeks considered the owl sacred. One of their earliest coins, “Tetradrachm,” minted about 480 B.C., bears his replica. During the Middle Ages, an owl flying over a European village caused a hectic scramble to bar doors and shutter windows lest his dire influence be felt. Early Americans shuddered, too, when an owl's resonant call floated through the night air. A handful of salt thrown over the shoulder or into the fireplace usually countered any unforeseen calamity of his doing. Even in this age owls are associated with Halloween and its gala assortment of witches and goblins.

Present day Southwest Hopi and Zuñi Indians also have him playing a dual role as a malefactor or sage, depending on the circumstances. Medicine men receive owl feathers when they have performed an exceptionally sagacious feat. Our 20th century advertising admonishes readers to follow the example of the wise, old owl. With a hooked beak that looks like a nose, feathered tufts that appear as ears, and rims circling his prominenteyes in the manner of pince-nez spectacles, he does look somewhat human, if not at times scholarly.

Whatever the case, wise or wicked, he is a silent oracle, indeed. Keeping his own counsel, he only now and then offers a noncommittal oow, oow, oow. Despite contrasting superstitions, this nocturnal denizen goes about calmly and methodically ridding farmer and rancher of harmful rodents each night. Owls belong to the order of Strigiformes of which there are more than five hundred members. Fifty-five “OWL IN A PENSIVE MOOD,” BY WILLIS PETERSON. Perched for action above a spring seep, the Western Great Horned Owl awaits the approach of an unwary victim. His hearing is so keen that an almost imperceptible rustle in the brush 50 or 75 feet away can be picked up. If hungry, he immediately sails off in the direction of the noise to perch closer and consider a strike. In striking, he is unusually swift and accurate. There are few woodland creatures that he holds in awe. His strong claws strike terror in the eternal woodland battle for survival. Taken with 34 x 44 Speed Graphic, Ektachrome film. Lighted by double electronic flashes.

species are native of the United States and Canada. Of this number the Great Horned Owls are the fiercest. Though not quite the largest, giving a slight edge to the Great Gray Owl of the North, their wing span averages three and one half to four feet.

The climatic races of the Horned Owl species are divided by only slight differences in coloration. Lighter and more tawny feather pigmentation is prevalent in the Southwest, with the desert counterpart probably being grayest of all.

“MEET AN OWL FAMILY,” BY WILLIS PETERSON. Posing with the young owlets, Mrs. Great Horned seems to look about with an air of resignation as youngsters begin to walk out on adjacent limbs. It is interesting to note the owlets have a blue cast to their eyes, somewhat like kittens though not as pronounced. At birth the young are clothed in white down which later turns to a dark buff color. They are prodigious eaters, with a young owl eating his weight in food every 24 hours. Taken with 34 x 4% Speed Graphic, Ektachrome film. Lighted by double electronic flashes.The Western Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus pallescens) a tongue-twister in any language, is an efficient and able hunter with a boundless appetite. Beginning with a mouse or two as hors d'oeuvres, it is no task for Bubo to devour several rats and gophers in a night.

We have watched him flying effortlessly, clutching in his talons a limp rabbit, a favorite on his menu. If hungry, Bubo will not hesitate taking a skunk, apparently not in the least intimidated by its singular protective tactics. House cats, too, do not escape his watchful patrol.During these nightly hunts, several special features of the owl's anatomy, not found on other birds manifest themselves. They enable him to operate at night with the utmost efficiency, unexcelled by any other raptor.

His flight is practically noiseless, straight and level, slow and even. Wing beats are deliberate, and keep a steady methodical rhythm. Flight feathers have special edging consisting of soft, downy material which creates minute turbulences, muffling the sound of his beating wings. This eliminates the typical swish commonly heard when pigeons or hawks fly overhead, cleaving the air withtheir sharp-edged wings. In attacking prey at night, silence and surprise are greater factors than speed or soaring ability.

Coupled with this silent flight, the owl's wings are rounded, giving him an overall wing area larger than comparable sized raptors. Thus, Bubo has greater lifting power to carry away his dinner.

Eyes have special duties as well. Pupils dilate in darkness to the point where all yellow iris will disappear. In effect, it is the same as opening a camera lens to its widest aperture. The faintest of outlines are then visible to him.

In humans, specialized muscles change the eye lens for close and far focus. But in owls, a transparent covering bulges to different curvatures, creating different focal lengths. Besides this feature, Bubo can roll down a transparent eyelid for safety when flying or when in strong light. Contrary to many opinions, he sees very well in the daytime and is not blinded by sunlight. However, his pupils become mere pin points. Each eye takes up more room than his brain.

Apart from most birds, his eyes are in fixed positions and cannot move in their sockets-consequently he must move his whole head to change his sight angle. To see better when perched, he gyrates his head from side to side. In shifting his head about, he obtains a third dimensional effect, much like an old time stereoscope.

The resulting bobbing and swaying is comical, indeed, and has probably given rise to the expression "drunk as a hoot owl." But it actually helps him determine perspective for a strike, a primary factor for birds that hunt in order to live.

Both eyes face forward. The images received overlap in his optic system, thus eyesight also acts as a range finding device. This makes it easy for him to judge distance, timing, and size relationships.

finding device. This makes it easy for him to judge distance, timing, and size relationships.

His neck, strangely enough, enables him to hunt better too. Owls have fourteen neck vertabraes instead of the usual seven found in other birds and mammals. Even giraffes have only seven. This added flexibility enables him to turn his head one hundred eighty degrees while watching his prey. Rodents are quick in their movements. A few extra moments taken for a position change may make Bubo lose his supper.

Because of this unique feature, an old wives' tale has it that one can walk in circles about an owl until its head will twist off. A sure way to rid the world of owls.

Hearing is peculiar, also. He is the only bird with an inner and outer ear formed somewhat like a human's. One ear is bigger than the other. Why this difference in size is not quite clear. However, it is thought that the keenest and largest ear is more or less tuned to the ground in order to pick up minute rustlings-clues to the whereabouts of his prey.

His beak is highly curved, and somewhat wider than his cousins, the hawks. The lower mandible is shorter and straight, and fits into the upper one. The top mandible overhangs with a very pronounced hook. Bones are broken in the beak very much in the same manner as one would break a stick over a knee.

Bubo's feet are different from almost every other bird, too. His powerful legs and toes are covered with soft feathers giving him a booted appearance. Each foot is equipped with four unbelievably strong toes ending in one and one quarter inch long, curved, sabre-like talons.

The third toe can be swung around so that two face forward and two backward. This action enables the first toe to act somewhat like a thumb endowing him with the greatest of dexterity even in grasping the tiniest of objects.

These combined and interacting sensory organs make it possible for him to operate at night with the utmost proficiency unequaled in any other bird.

Hunting and striking down prey is not done in a haphazard manner either. From observations, we have learned when Bubo strikes his prey it is a carefully gauged maneuver, with windage, lead, and size of prey instinctively calculated.

Unlike many hawks which use a diving attack on prey from a high soaring position, Bubo would rather sail out from a perch to strike. In this swoop with wings outstretched, he describes an inverted arc, landing at an acute angle. Feet are outstretched, talons held outward in order to stab. The weight of his body usually knocks the wind out of most victims. When the balls of his feet touch, talons close automatically.

Prey is usually carried only by one foot, hardly ever in the beak.

This proficient hunting method was vividly portrayed to us not long ago as we camped in a semi-desert canyon bottom of the Bloody Basin country. From our very advantageous position we witnessed the role of hunter and hunted.

A rose-colored dawn and a rhythmic pattering across our sleeping bags had awakened us. We watched with amusement while a rodent dashed across our bedding. Using the shortest route during his many excursions, he had been methodically gathering leavings found by our deadened campfire. Suddenly with an unexpected bobbing motion of an innocent looking object jutting up from a nearby log, we became aware that another pair of eyes were watching too-Bubo's sinister looking orbs.

His large staring eyes, with pupils so dilated they seemed to be pools of jet, did not waver nor blink. They measured and calculated distance and speed, and affirmed their owner that here, indeed, was a succulent tidbit.

We waited tensely. Advancing dawn infiltrated the desert canyon bottom with grotesque shadows making the setting more eerie. Then spreading his wings for action, the owl sailed out from the perch, fluttered a moment to time his strike, and swooped downward. He hit the rat squarely with both feet.

As long, curved talons clutched the victim, the hunter fell back upon the support of his tail. With wings held up for balance he kept the animal at leg's distance from his body, an automatic safety measure. In this unusual position the owl was out of danger in case the struggling animal tried to claw or bite back. The foray was over in an instant. It was a soundless, lethal strike.

Clutching his dinner in one foot, the bird beat his large rounded wings against the air and left as soundlessly as he had struck.

It was an experience we shall certainly never forget, and one which prompted our further study of this quilled tiger of the night. Since then we have grown to admire these large raptors.

They are solicitous parents to a fault and will sometimes defend their young with diving attacks reminiscent of jets buzzing a tower. The persistence displayed against elements and marauders by the female while sitting on her eggs is simply astounding.

Their mated life seems to be endowed with tranquility, too. Occasionally billing and inspecting each other's ear tufts show them to be more affectionate of oneanother than one may think. The female of the species is half a head taller than the male. Knowing this fact, they appear as a whimsical "Mutt and Jeff" couple sitting together on a limb.

Their nuptial time takes place in the very teeth of winter. Depending on latitude, nest sites are chosen from January to March. They do not build a home of their own. Since they are one of the first birds of the year to nest, former aeries of hawk or crow become favorite sites. However, a lack of ready made nests does not deter them in the least. We have found their brace of large, round, white eggs laid carelessly on rock ledges, and balanced precariously on rotting snags.

Probably one of the strangest nesting places of all was recorded by Herbert Brandt in his book Arizona and Its Bird Life. Great Horned Owl eggs were found laid in the back of the bucket seats in the cockpit of two stored B-29's at Davis-Monthan Airfield near Tucson.

The female makes little or no attempt to provide a soft or comfortable cradle. Her young are hatched in as austere surroundings as the season's weather. Quite often in higher elevations, snow piles upon her back during late winter storms. But she, with only a mother's tenacity, sits patiently on her precious eggs. Occasionally, ruffling feathers to shake off the wintery blanket, she grimly settles down again to her long vigil.

In the Arizona semi-desert canyon country, Bubo and his mate set up housekeeping in February and March. Unlike many birds, the owl begins incubation the moment the egg is laid. The other one is deposited a few days later. Rarely, if ever, are more than two eggs laid.

Eggs are almost spherical in shape which holds true for the owl species in general. Size may vary slightly but usually a large chicken egg would be comparable.

About thirty to thirty-one days after incubation begins, the first youngster emerges from the shell as a helpless handful of whitish down. Later this gives way to a heavier buff colored suit. Growth is so rapid the first few days that the second hatched owlet has a hard time fending for himself.

In an amazingly amazingly short time their beak and talons develop into a disproportionate size. But the reason is quite evident. Because of the owlet's ravenous appetites after the first week or so, there is scarcely time for the harassed parents to tear up food.

During this period Bubo and his mate can be very formidable foes with swooping attacks directed against intruders. The first warning greeting an observer when invading the owl family's privacy is an indignant, ominous and often dangerous chorus of beak snapping, a trait exhibited by all owls. Beak snapping is accomplished by both mandibles clacking together while the tongue is pulled in quickly. However, it is not the snapping itself that is dangerous, but the sentiment with which it is meant.

Besides beak snapping, Bubo extends his wings, swivelling them around to appear as huge fans on each side of his body. While vibrating these fans, and with a wild look in his eye, a menacing snap of his bill, and ears standing straight up, he seems to be transformed into a malefficient spirit of the canyon.

Unless one knows owls, it is best to make a cautious retreat, offering any apologies that the baleful looking sylvan citizenry may accept.

In a few weeks, the babies' light buff down turns to a darker color. Even at this early age their characteristic ear tufts are noticeable, though no more than stiff, stubby sprigs of down they protrude from the youngsters' woolly looking heads.

When the young open their beaks for food the size of their mouths is appalling. While emitting rasping cries from this cavernous and engulfing chasm, the babies pour forth one of the strongest cases of halitosis imaginable. Filling these seemingly bottomless stomachs is quite a problem for the parent birds. The young can eat their own weight and more in twenty-four hours' time. An owl family will literally eat hundreds of pounds of rodents in a year's time.

All bones and fur are regurgitated about twelve hours later in the form of tightly compressed pellets, about the size of one's thumb. Each species of owl ejects its own peculiar sort of pellet. By dissecting it, and determining its contents, as well as noting its size and shape, one can identify the owl. Their roosts are usually conspicuous by the litter of pellets found on the ground.

In seven or eight weeks time, the offspring begin walking the adjacent branches and flap ungainly from perch to perch, exploring new worlds with great curiosity. The young are coached by their parents for a considerable time.

It is amusing to watch when the owlets begin to pounce on objects lying about the ground. Flapping vigorously, they alight on a target, and clutch it with their talons. A somersault usually results.

On one occasion we saw a parent take a rock squirrel in Bronco Canyon near Seven Springs. Almost immediately her youngsters lit upon the ground beside her. Beating their ungainly pinions in a frenzied manner to keep upright, they sprawled forward using their beaks as skids. But their inner urgings brought them up short, and they reeled after their mother like tipsy sailors. While she relentlessly finished the rock squirrel's struggle, her offspring caught up with her and rasped out their hunger in a continuing series of short hoarse cries.

Soon the animal was no more as it disappeared in great gulps down the throat of the more forward owlet. The other youngster had hardly received a taste. It gyrated its head in disbelief at the spot where the victim had been while its brother or sister nestled its head between its wings to let the meal settle.

As youngsters approach adult size this remarkable appetite tapers off. However, it must be remembered that it takes a tremendous metabolism rate to develop and continue to manufacture plummage to replace their down as well as to form sinews, muscles and bones strong enough to overcome heavier woodland creatures.

During this industrious and sometimes wearisome food search, Bubo occasionally likes to take time out for a dip in a canyon spring seep or some shallow rain-filled depression. He approaches the waterhole carefully, for there may be an enemy waiting for just such a rash move. Like all wildlife creatures, he is cautious.

If all is clear, he wades into the water up to his breast feathers, jostles his wings up and down in unison to get water upon his back, and rapidly shakes his head back and forth in the water. Bubo is apparently very fond of the water for he loves to wade and reach into the water with his bill to pick up pebbles and sticks which he then casts aside in favor of others. In this leisurely pastime he never fails to keep his eye open for an unwary frog or toad.

When the young begin hunting for themselves, their parents begin molting, which is actually another example of the fine timing in which all nature is divided. It is improbable that the parents could so dextrously procure food for their youngsters if their molt occurred earlier in the year.

During molting every other flight pinion is lost. Within a few day's time, it is replaced and the alternate one lost. Though the owl has no difficulty in flying in this condition it would be harder to carry heavy burdens to the nest. In effect it would be like clipping off part of an aircraft's wing, eliminating a portion of the lifting power.

By November Bubo and his mate's plummage has been completely restored. But it takes a full year before the young lose all the juvenile feathers and acquire adult garb. It also takes about a year for them to develop adult voices.

In winter months Bubo becomes more voluble than he is in the fall. With each hoot his throat diaphragm distends, bellying outward very much like a croaking toad.

Hoots are usually in a series of five with the second oow slightly different and accented, thus: oow, woowoo, oow, oow. The female's is somewhat higher pitched and more hurried.

Another common call is a long string of short oow's ending in the familiar hoot. An all together different cry sounds very much like the barking of a small dog. If a strange owl should chance upon Bubo and come too close he utters a warning which sounds somewhat like a malicious chuckle.

Bubo's hooting carries great distances in the still of the evenings and night which must be due to the resonant tone of the call. Actually his cry is not loud.

If you are camped in Arizona's great outdoor wonderland, and should happen to hear Bubo's hoot, let the goose pimples on your neck subside. Then, quietly and discreetly find a place to conceal yourself, and return his call. He may soon drift by on lazy wings. It is a thrill worth waiting for to see Bubo, the quilled tiger of the night, pass silently overhead, patrolling his canyon, inquisitive, a natural-born provider.