Mother Nature's Night Stalker

THE GREAT HORNED OWL: DEADLY HUNTER OF THE NIGHT

It's an afternoon in June, and I'm hiking with a friend's dog in a slot canyon near Lake Powell. I round a tight bend in the four-foot-wide canyon and, to my utter astonishment, come face-to-face with an unfledged great horned owl there, directly in front of me, sitting on the sandy floor of the canyon, its back against the wall. I've seen great horned owls before, but only on high perches like trees, saguaro cacti, and telephone poles. If I hadn't been looking dead-on at the spot where this half-grown owl sits, I would have missed it altogether, so perfectly does its coloration blend with the canyon wall.

I stare. The young owl, motionless, stares back, the large disks surrounding its great round eyes giving them an even larger and more solemn aspect. My canine companion, as amazed as I, cowers at my heels. Then, bird dog that she is, she steps boldly around me toward the owl and goes on point.

Instantly the owl is transformed into feathered fury. Ear tufts erect, eyes bulging, it ruffles its feathers and spreads its wings to suddenly appear twice its actual size. Hissing loudly, it clappers its hooked beak and lifts a feathered leg to display deadly gang-hook talons.

Frightened, the dog leaps back. I also back away smiling. With fuzzy down feathers still clinging to its breast and cheeks, the owlet presents a somewhat comical, albeit wild, appearance.

Then, crisis over, the owl resumes its skinny adolescent shape, mottled plumage fading into background rock. The dog lies a safe distance away, head on paws, feigning indifference. I call to her, and we continue our hike through the canyon.

Later I learn that immature great horned owls are often found outside the nest. Some owl experts offer a number of reasons. Nests become overcrowded, and half-grown owls may sometimes jump ship or get pushed overboard by their siblings. Also nestlings are often savaged by fleas and ticks. Going over the side is the only escape. Finally adult owls sometimes may oust the young, urging them into a head start, but continue to care for them on the ground.

This encounter was several summers ago. If it survived, my comical baby owl would become what many believe to be the most successful raptor on Earth. Stealthy, noiseless flight on a threeto five-foot wingspan, a hooked razor-sharp beak, four tonglike, bone-piercing talons on each foot - two forward and two rear and an almost supernatural ability to see and hear in the dark make the great horned owl an excellent example of a nighttime killing machine. It can see in light one hundred times dimmer than humans require, and in almost total darkness the horned owl unerringly reckons the location and movement of prey animals by its sense of hearing alone.

A ferocious defender of a hunting territory that might encompass several square miles, a great horned owl will attack anything it figures it can subdue, even other owls and hawks. Rabbits seem to be its favorite food, but it also hunts snakes, gophers, wood rats, squirrels, frogs, mice, quail, and even shallow-water fish. The horned owl also loves skunks (captured owls frequently stink of skunk spray), and, although it weighs not much more than five pounds itself, it will pursue and kill small raccoons. Near human dwellings, especially in winter when rodents are scarce, great horned owls have been known to make a pretty good living on house pets.

Of savage disposition, great horned owls have been observed battling bald eagles for nest sites. No wonder they've been dubbed "flying tigers."

As is typical throughout its range, north to Alaska and south to Argentina, the great horned owl in Arizona occurs in all habitats.

Horned owls mate in winter but don't seem to be fussy about nest sites, usually setting up in abandoned abodes of other birds, such as red-tailed hawks, bald eagles, herons, or crows. They also nest in small caves in cliff faces, in tree hollows, on the ground, and even in leaf nests abandoned by squirrels.

Young owls are voracious eaters, and their incubation, about five weeks, is timed to coincide with spring's bounty. In approximately 12 weeks, when the young have fledged, both parents are worn out from feeding them.

Whenever I hear the resonant hooting of a great horned owl, I recall the angry young owlet I encountered near Lake Powell. I wonder if it survived? It would have needed some luck, for as fearsome as they are grown-up, young owls are vulnerable to red-tailed hawks, eagles, and other predators. By now, it would be several years old and looking forward to perhaps another 10 years. I like to imagine it living and hunting the canyonlands along the Arizona-Utah border. I loved its fierce spirit.