PETERSFIELD.
AN OWL ATTACKING HUMAN BEINGS.—Mr. J. D. Lewis, of Westbury House, Petersfield, has forwarded the following curious incident to a contemporary:—"A few weeks ago one of the labourers employed here brought in to my wife a young brown owl (aged apparently about a week), which had been found in a barn. She amused herself by feeding and attending to it for a few days, during which it continued to thrive, and after a while she began to take it on to the lawn at nightfall, where, not yet being able to do more than flutter its wings, it was easily watched. This had continued for some evenings without anything noticeable, when one day one of the servants, out rook shooting, killed another young owl of the same species, by mistake, as he said. The same evening my wife was watching her pet, when she suddenly felt a violent blow on the ear; though nothing was visible, she distinctly heard the hooting of an owl. On examining her ear, I found a deep cut at the back of it, and it was streaming with blood. I myself immediately went out, and on approaching the spot where the young bird was, received a violent blow on the side of the head, which I can compare to nothing so much as that of a cricket ball with sharp pin's heads protruding from it. As may be supposed, I may the best of my way in. My face was streaming with blood, and I had the marks of four claws on my face, one within half an inch of my eye, and another (rather a deep one) on the head, near the ear. The remains of these are still visible, and my eye was blackened for some days. The effect of the blow was most curious, as I saw and heard nothing, though there was plenty of light. After this, we of course only ventured out with some covering for our heads, and my wife placed over hers a thick carriage rug or apron, one side of which was of leather. When protected by this, she was repeatedly struck by the old owl, though without being in the least hurt. On one occasion I just caught sight of her in her swoop, and often have heard the blow which she inflicted. We liberated the young owl when he was able fly, and have heard nothing more of him. The old bird (whom we suppose to be the mother of both the young ones) is still heard round the house at night, and has been seen sleeping in the daytime in a tree adjoining the kitchen, but has never since molested us. I should be glad to learn, with your permission, whether any of your correspondents can furnish an instance of the common brown owl thus attacking human beings, and, I may add, so pertinaciously. I have not been able to learn any such example.
(Ed: brown owl would be a Tawny owl)