The Natural History of Selborne, Vol. 2 | Page 2

pleased with the discovery: this I look upon as a great stroke in
natural history.
We have had, ever since I can remember, a pair of white owls that
constantly breed under the eaves of this church. As I have paid good
attention to the manner of life of these birds during their season of
breeding, which lasts the summer through, the following remarks may
not perhaps be unacceptable:--About an hour before sunset (for then the
mice begin to run) they sally forth in quest of prey, and hunt all round
the hedges of meadows and small enclosures for them, which seem to
be their only food. In this irregular country we can stand on an
eminence and see them beat the fields over like a setting-dog, and often
drop down in the grass or corn. I have minuted these birds with my
watch for an hour together, and have found that they return to their nest,
the one or the other of them, about once in five minutes; reflecting at
the same time on the adroitness that every animal is possessed of as far
as regards the well-being of itself and offspring. But a piece of address,
which they show when they return loaded, should not, I think, be
passed over in silence. As they take their prey with their claws, so they
carry it in their claws to their nest; but, as the feet are necessary in their
ascent under the tiles, they constantly perch first on the roof of the
chancel, and shift the mouse from their claws to their bill, that their feet
may be at liberty to take hold of the plate on the wall as they are rising
under the eaves.
White owls seem not (but in this I am not positive) to hoot at all; all
that clamorous hooting appears to me to come from the wood kinds.
The white owl does indeed snore and hiss in a tremendous manner; and
these menaces well answer the intention of intimidating; for I have
known a whole village up in arms on such an occasion, imagining the

churchyard to be full of goblins and spectres. White owls also often
scream horribly as they fly along; from this screaming probably arose
the common people's imaginary species of screech-owl, which they
superstitiously think attends the windows of dying persons. The
plumage of the remiges of the wings of every species of owl that I have
yet examined is remarkably soft and pliant. Perhaps it may be
necessary that the wings of these birds should not make much
resistance or rushing, that they may be enabled to steal through the air
unheard upon a nimble and watchful quarry.
While I am talking of owls, it may not be improper to mention what I
was told by a gentleman of the county of Wilts. As they were grubbing
a vast hollow pollard-ash that had been the mansion of owls for
centuries, he discovered at the bottom a mass of matter that at first he
could not account for. After some examination he found that it was a
congeries of the bones of mice (and perhaps of birds and bats) that had
been heaping together for ages, being cast up in pellets out of the crops
of many generations of inhabitants. For owls cast up the bones, fur, and
feathers of what they devour, after the manner of hawks. He believes,
he told me, that there were bushels of this kind of substance.
When brown owls hoot their throats swell as big as a hen's egg. I have
known an owl of this species live a full year without any water. Perhaps
the case may be the same with all birds of prey. When owls fly they
stretch out their legs behind them as a balance to their large heavy
heads, for as most nocturnal birds have large eyes and ears they must
have large heads to contain them. Large eyes, I presume, are necessary
to collect every ray of light, and large concave ears to command the
smallest degree of sound or noise.
I am, etc.
* * * * *
[It will be proper to premise here that the sixteenth, eighteenth,
twentieth, and twenty-first letters have been published already in the
"Philosophical Transactions;" but as nicer observation has furnished
several corrections and additions, it is hoped that the republication of

them will not give offence; especially as these sheets would be very
imperfect without them, and as they will be new to many readers who
had no opportunity of seeing them when they made their first
appearance.]
"The hirundines are a most inoffensive, harmless, entertaining, social,
and useful tribe of birds; they touch no fruit in our gardens; delight, all
except one species, in attaching themselves to our houses; amuse