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Burned Robust or Pink-flowered Hedgehog Cactus (Echinocereus fasciculatus) trying to look like a miniture Saguaro; area burned in Burro Fire 6 months before, just above Korn Kob mine, S of upper Buehman Canyon, N of Piety Hill and Redington Pass Road, Coronado NF, W of Redington, AZ
Sunrise right in the gap or notch of the Coburg Hills, near Eugene, Oregon just a few mornings ago.
(170sunriseinthenotchpowerlines)
"If you are tempted to criticize the size, resolution or quality of this image ~ please don't ~ I used a Sony Mavica Digital (sub-megapixel) camera, which was State of the Art in 1999 ~ Digital Cameras have since come a long way"
I was asked to do "whatever I wanted" with this head. I want one for me now, but I decided to stop buying dolls T_T
There was red and green lights glowing together! Should I stop or go?
The red abdomen with the white stripes is a Red Cotton Bug, which was traversing through the lawn.
there is a short story going with this shot.
since awhile with the cold weather the sea is frozen and there is only a tiny area with open water.
Unbelievable 500-700 estimated different birds have assembled there...a real chaos ..seagulls, ducks, gooses. swans and many other are staying on the ice or swimming in the overcrowded pool. to survive.
Every day i go there with around 10 breads and big boxes of grain really not enough for this mass.
In the meantime, especially the swans know me, so when i come now with my car about 40 swans come waddling, running, flying , surrounding my car so that it is hard to open the door. Especially the one on the photo is very trustingly and is allways the first of all, and the others are picking at my trousers and jacket till they get something. Very nice experience to play Santa Claus now every day.
better seen enlarged View On Black
Dogbane or spreading Dogbane at Duffins trail In Discovery bay , Ajax , Ontario , Canada , Martin’s photographs , July 25. 2021
Dogbane
spreading Dogbane
Dogbane or spreading Dogbane
Pontoon boat
The Kawartha’s
Mushroom looks like a Halloween pumpkin face
Inneskillen
Solina area
stand of trees
Hammocks
Orono
Ajax
Discovery bay
Clarington
pine trees
Anstruther lake
Rocks
Loon lake
Kawartha Highlands Provincial Park
Wild Asters
mushroom
fungi
the woods
Beautiful and colourful mushroom fungi in the woods at Duffins trail
fire in a Tomshoo camp stove fuelled by small sticks
gravely shore of Lake Ontario
Darlington Provincial Park
August 2021
Clarington
Lake Ontario
Sunset
A beautiful sunset
Crescent moon
Hugging trees
Jobs wood
hike on a boardwalk in Jobs wood in Presqu’ile Provincial Park
boardwalk
Jobs wood in Presqu’ile Provincial Park
small rock
Fossil
Fossilized creature
Pebbles on shore of lake Ontario
pebbles on beach
Martin’s photograph
Stones
Pebbles
Ontario parks
Provincial parks
shore of lake Ontario
Great pebbles on the shore of Lake Ontario
Presqu’ile Provincial Park
Martin’s photographs
Brighton
Ontario
Canada
Great pebbles
abandoned gas tank
driftwood
Gas tank
Canoe’s
Cedar trees
Favourites
IPhone XR
July 2021
Nice tree line at beach of lake St.Peter
Lake St Peter Provincial Park
Martin’s photographs
Hastings Highlands
beach of lake St.Peter
Lake St Peter
Lake St.Peter in Hastings Highlands
Cloudy sky
Clouds
Park office of Lake St Peter Provincial Park
Long Lake in Kawartha Highlands provincial park
North Kawartha
Long LakeLodge at Long Lake in Kawartha Highlands provincial park
Long Lake Lodge
Beautiful mushrooms very close to the ground you can see the stem below
Lake
Beach
Cockburnspath or Cockburn's Path is apparently a corruption of Coldbrand's Path (and I imagine Path is a corruption of Peath).
Tso Moriri or Lake Moriri is a lake in the Ladakhi part of the ChangthangPlateau in Jammu and Kashmir in northern India. The lake is at an altitude of 14,836 ft. It is the largest of the high altitude lakes entirely within India and entirely within Ladakh in this Trans-Himalayan biogeographic region. The official name of the land and water reserve here is the Tso Moriri Wetland Conservation Reserve.
Max. length 19 km
Max. width 3 km
Surface area
30,000 acres
Max. depth 344 ft
The lake is fed by springs and snow-melt from neighboring mountains. Most water enters the lake in two major stream systems, one entering the lake from the north, the other from the southwest. Both stream systems include extensive marshes where they enter the lake. It formerly had an outlet to the south, but this has become blocked and the lake has become a endorheic lake. The lake is oligotrophic in nature, and its waters are alkaline. As per a classification of the Himalayan Lakes done on the basis of their origin, there are four groups and Tso Moriri falls under the third group of “remnant lakes".
Accessibility to the lake is largely limited to summer season, though Karzok on the northwest shore and the military facilities on the eastern shores have year-round habitation.
The Changthang Plateau in the eastern Ladakh represents a landscape of low productive ecosystems which protects unique floral and faunal species. The area is an extension of the western Tibetan plateau that lies above 14,800 ft and supports diverse but low populations of several globally threatened mammals. The lake's basin could also be categorised as an basin since it is a closed drainage basin that retains water and allows no outflow to other bodies of water such as rivers or oceans.
The lake is 20 to 50 kilometers southeast of the elevated valley of the core Rupshu Valley and falls within the greater Rupshu Plateau and valley area. The lake is ringed by hills rising over 20,000 ft.
“Changpas", the nomadic migratory shepherds of yak, sheep, goat, and horses of Tibetan origin and who are engaged in trade and work on caravans in Ladakh region, are the main inhabitants of the area. Changpa herders use the land of this valley as grazing ground and for cultivation.
Despite a poor vegetation cover, relatively low standing biomass and high anthropogenic pressure, this area sustains a considerably high livestock population. Steady increase in the livestock population in the area is mainly attributed to influx of nomadic herders from Tibet during recent decades and promotion of Pashmina goat production (for Pashmina wool) by the Animal Husbandry Department (AHD).
The Korzok Monastery, on the western bank of the lake is 400 years old and attracts tourists and Buddhist pilgrims. Tourism during May – September attracts large number of foreign and local tourists . Source: Wikipedia.
[How to Reach Tso Moriri Lake (Route from Leh to Tso Moriri Lake):
This is the general route to Tso Moriri that most people take. One can reach in about 6 – 7 Hrs. The route along with distance between the subsequent places is as follows:
Leh – Karu (36 Kms) – Upshi (13 Kms) – Kumdok (19 Kms) – Kere (53 Kms) – Chumathang (34 Kms) – Mahe (22 Kms) – Sumdo (10 Kms) – Korzok or Tso Moriri (53 Kms) = 240 Kms]
mashalah plz*
comment on the one u like :P
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I have two little cousins that love to hear me telling them horror stories. The last time they visited, I invented this story, which I quite liked, so I decided to write it down and make this photo.
It was also really fun taking this shot. We actually went in some woods near midnight with a candle and a girl wrapped in a blanket. People should have thought all kinds of stuff!
Thank you so much for being such a weirdo with me, Giovanna!
---------------------
England, 1863. It was a late winter night. The cold wind blew through the large stone corridors of the Brocklehurst mansion. Not much could be seen, once several of the candles responsible for lightning the place were already dead. The brightest place in the whole house was the west-wing living room, inhabited by two siblings sitting by the fireplace, each one involved by a thick, brown blanket. Annabelle and Jonah were completely by themselves. Even though the family once was very influent and rich in the town, it all ended when their mother mysteriously passed away. Her body was found in the woods surrounding the house, with no apparent wound or signs of struggle. Her health was perfect and some sudden illness was very unlikely. Some would say her soul was taken by the dark spirits of the forest, as told by an old legend a lot of people refused to believe.
Since her death, the Lord Brocklehurst lost all his will to live. The businesses ran by generations in the family slowly decayed to almost inexistent levels. The mansion, once always brilliant and filled with maids, servants and delightful balls for the aristocracy, was now completely abandoned and infested with spiders, rats and dust. Some would say the Lord even lost his savvy. It was common enough to him to depart with no warning, leaving his children behind.
“I wonder when dad will come back this time.” Annabelle said to the air, clearly not paying attention anymore to the book her brother was reading for her. Jonah stopped, looked at the girl for a few seconds and closed the book soundly, making a cloud of dust rise from it.
“Don’t wait up too cheerfully.” he said, standing up and leading himself to the opposite side of the big room to give the book back to an immense bookcase filled with stories and tales, when the sharp scream of a girl made him drop it, as darkness engulfed everything.
“Calm down, Ann! What happened?!” said the tall young man, half-closing his eyes trying to adapt to the murk.
“The fireplace… It… It just went off out of nowhere!” she answered, with little sobs in her voice. The boy then found his way back to her side, making her skip a heartbeat when he hugged her. After calming Annabelle down, Jonah went to the next room and took a few half used candles.
“I’m sure it was just a wind gust.”
“It was not!” she answered, still with a trembling voice. “I was right here, I didn’t feel anything! It just… I think I saw something red in the fire and then it extinguished.” A chill went through her spine.
“Don’t be silly. Here, look.” He pointed to the fireplace. “The firewood just withered. We need some more.”
“But we ran out of it, brother… These were the last ones. It should have endured through the night…”
“Then… I’ll get more in the woods.”
A deep silence took place. Even though the stories were hard to believe, they didn’t enjoyed going in there, especially after their mother incident. But there was no option. They would definitely freeze without any fire.
“You stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He kissed Annabelle’s forehead, messed her hair, took the lamp and left the room. She heard him getting the axe, opening the huge front door and closing it.
Except for her own breathing and some whispers of the wind, the silence was absolute. She waited there, wrapped in the blanket, staring the nothingness.
(…)
The clock ticked for way too long. Something was definitely wrong. She was really scared, yes, but it scared her even more to lose the only one she had left. The last one who cared for her. Some of the wolves in the woods could have attacked him, even though it wasn’t common for them to come close to the house. She took the blanket, put the candle in a white porcelain saucer and left.
It was a full moon, but the clouds covered it almost completely. The leafless, lifeless trees danced conducted by the wind - a macabre corpse dance. The branches cracking with the movement created the eeriest symphony. Annabelle took a deep breath, swallowed the fear and went down the stairs which leaded to the wood’s entrance. Walking carefully amongst the branches laying in the ground, she started to look for her beloved brother. She couldn’t scream or make too much noise, because that could call the wolves’ attention. So the girl continued going deeper in the forest, with her path lightened by a simple candle, whispering Jonah’s name. She walked and walked with no sign of him. Then, a scream echoed in the woods. Annabelle froze, and so did the wind. It stopped completely, putting an end to the orchestra it leaded. She then realized she was way deeper inside the woods than any sane person would be. The trees were so dense she couldn’t even see the dim moon’s light hiding behind the clouds. All the available light was coming from the candle.
Then, with her ear now left in peace, she began to hear, far away, a gentle low voice calling for her.
“Annabelle…”
The girl ignored at first, but the calling was then repeated, a little louder. She recognized it coming from the southwest and began following it. As she went closer and closer to the source of her brother’s voice, it got louder, although it still was a whisper. Walking a little faster as she thought she would finally rendezvous, a glade revealed itself.
“Anabelle…”
She heard from the other side of it. Walking cautiously, she kept following the voice.
“Annabelle…”
When the girl reached the center, a weird feeling made her stop. She felt someone right behind her. She could feel its presence… Its heat. The hot breath right on her neck.
“ANNABELLE.”
It was no longer her brother’s voice. It was a scratchy, cold and rough voice, the mix of an old man in his deathbed with the growl of a dreadful monster. She screamed and began to run desperately, leaving behind the blanket right where the thing talked to her. The girl didn’t look back; there was no need to see whatever it was that was there. And this way she continued, running as fast as she could, crying and protecting the light – her guide.
After running for what she thought being a few miles, Annabelle found herself in another glade. As the weak light revealed the path in front of her, she saw something. It looked like Jonah lying in the ground. Desperately, she ran to it and when tried to hug it, the girl realized it was just a blanket. Her own blanket. The same one she left exactly there in her first escape. “I had ran in circles… Stupid tricky forest!”, she thought. Then she continued walking, determined to leave that dark hell and ask for help finding Jonah. She walked into miles, feeling devastated and confused, when another glade was found. The same nightmare was repeated. Again, she was in the same place, even though she walked a straight path. Nearly exhausted, she couldn’t give up… Not yet...
She ran.
(…)
For the third time, there she was again. The same glade. Annabelle picked up the blanket, wrapped herself inside it, sat down and started to cry.
“It will be alright…” she tried to comfort herself. “I’ll just wait here until dawn comes… Then I’ll find my way back.” She thought of her brother. Would he be trapped just like she was? Maybe he just couldn’t find his way back. Yes, they would find each other again. They would be together again. They would.
She stayed there waiting for the time pass by. Obviously, she couldn’t sleep – her nerves wouldn’t allow her. So, with a low, faint voice, she began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her in stormy nights. Her heart was calmed. She felt like her mother was there for her.
Suddenly, a bell rang far away, making Annabelle goggle her eyes on its direction. Eleven times that bell was ringed. It was the town’s old clock, telling everyone that the eleventh hour has come.
“Just a few more hours… Everything will be fine.” she thought.
A cold, lonely and singing hour later, the clock once again made its announcement. The girl counted the bangs.
Midnight had come.
Together with the twelfth strike, hundreds of crows flew from the woods in a skyward direction, creating a terribly loud noise that made her hide inside her blanket. Breathing fast, heart pounding in her throat, all she could think about for comfort was her brother’s face. She would find him. All would just become a terrible night dark. She prayed.
When everything became quiet again, she slowly began to uncover her eyes. Lifting the blanket, she discovered a pair of blood colored spheres staring at her. Her heart stopped. A death cold breath invaded the blanket, freezing her spine.
“ANNABELLE!”
Darkness.
To this very day, these woods are haunted. No one dares to enter the place. It is said that every full moon, exactly at midnight, it’s possible to hear a lonely lullaby coming from the woods. If it’s dark enough, a wandering dim candle light, held by the poor Annabelle, can also be seen.
Jonah found his way back into the mansion that night, finding it empty. Nothing had happened to him. He came back in a few minutes, just like he said he would.
The young man and the entire town searched for Annabelle, but she or her body were never found. She is still trapped there, for all eternity, looking for him, aided only by a candle. The clock she hears every hour always tell that the midnight has come. And it will never go away.
Even though the Center for Disease Control recommended NO trick or treat this year, many people were determined to do it anyway. My neighborhood is especially fond of it, so I set up a table at the end of my walkway and sat a good 20 feet away. When there was a lull in activity I went and put more candy on the table.
This little pterodactyl lives across the street from me. He seemed very enthused about the whole activity this year. Last year he was clearly confused!
Enjoy all the photos, I know I'm posting a lot, there's no need to comment on each one!
Japan - A Nation Wallowing in Disgrace and Pettiness
After years of confrontations and controversy two things are now very clear. The first is that no one of intelligence believes anymore that Japan is, or has been engaged in scientific whaling and it is also clear that the Japanese argument of cultural necessity is just as bogus as their claim to scientific research.
The Japanese government intends to defy the International Court of Justice and they intend to return to the internationally established Southern Ocean Whale Sanctuary to kill whales.
Why? Because this is no longer about whaling. It is about defiance and the assertion of Japanese nationalism over world opinion. This is nothing new with Japan, in fact it is more reflective of Japanese culture than almost anything else.
The Japanese government through the Institute of Cetacean Research has waged war on Sea Shepherd both on the high seas and in the courts. They have managed to isolate myself and Sea Shepherd USA through the U.S. Courts. But that is all they have achieved and what they don’t understand is that Sea Shepherd is not an organization and it is not me. Sea Shepherd is a movement.
Sea Shepherd activists have nothing to lose and everything to gain for the simple fact that Sea Shepherd volunteers are not saving whales in return for a pay cheque. They are saving whales because whales are whales and have a right to live and the integrity of what is established as a sanctuary must be defended. The whales are the clients of Sea Shepherd Global.
So where are we now? For over a decade Japan has had the satisfaction of accusing Sea Shepherd of being outlaws, pirates, and eco-terrorists.
They can do so no more. The International Court of Justice has ruled that the Japanese whalers are the outlaws. They are the eco-terrorists and they have illegally invaded an internationally established sanctuary for whales for the purpose of unlawfully slaughtering protected and endangered species and in so doing they have lied to the entire world about their motivations.
Sea Shepherd has saved thousands of whales in the Southern Ocean Whale Sanctuary through the implementation of daring campaigns incorporating passionate and courageous crew coupled with imaginative non-violent tactics and guided by a strategy based on working within the boundaries of international law.
Japan has shamefully abused their authority as a government and even more shamefully they have lowered themselves to recognizing that Sea Shepherd as a non-governmental organization is a force that they are both concerned with and fear.
When they return in 2015 they have stated they will develop tactics to counter Sea Shepherd tactics. But how can they counter a crew that are willing to die for the defense of the Sanctuary? Will they escalate their already dangerous tactics? Do they think that killing Sea Shepherd crew will win them sympathy for their on-going illegal activities? Do they expect their threats to deter Sea Shepherd volunteers?
The Japanese whalers have the advantage of being backed by a government that will justify whatever they do but Sea Shepherd volunteers have an even greater advantage and that is the resolve to stand firm in the Sanctuary, no matter what the consequences.
The whalers have money, political power and ruthlessness on their side. Sea Shepherd has passion, courage and imagination on our side and now we have one more advantage and that is a verdict from the ICJ that our opposition are criminals – not us.
Captain Paul Watson
Just like most of the two-dozen or so surviving Adonis sarcophagi, the sarcophagus relief contains three scenes showing Adonis’ farewell to Aphrodite, the boar injuring him, and Aphrodite tending the dying Adonis. However, the episodes are not illustrated in the order they have in the myth, because the ‘tending’ scene has been placed in the center of the frieze. It is only in this scene that Aphrodite and Adonis have been given portrait features; in the other scenes they have ‘ideal’ faces.
The upper frieze depicting the Oedipus’ myth is not pertinent to the Adonis’ sarcophagus.
Adonis’ Myth:
Adonis’ birth is the result of a terrible incest: Myrrha falls in love with her own father and is made pregnant by him. She is forced to flee and wanders despairing through the world until a god hears her entreaties and turns Myrrha into the tree that takes her name.
According to the myth, the name Adonis means “who sprang from a myrrh tree”. He was so handsome that he conquered even the goddess of love herself. In vain she warned her beloved, a passionate hunter, to take care: during a hunt Adonis was wounded by a boar and died (Ovid, Metamorphoses 10.301—559, 707—39).
Vatican Adonis’ Sarcophagus:
The central wound-tending scene has been drastically recast as a representative, almost ceremonial image: an enthroned Aphrodite and her mortal lover sit next to each other like a pair of statues, in a curtained-off inner room. Adonis sits there rigid and his posture makes the disaster appear rather minor. A cupid kneeling at the feet of the hero is washing his bloodied leg over a basin, while,. In addition, an old man with a beard is pressing a sponge onto the thigh-wound in a somewhat formal and uninvolved manner. The reason for this change to the wound-tending scene is plain: the heads of Adonis and his beloved have been given the portrait features of a Roman couple, who wanted to make clear their virtues and their deep bond. The youthful features of this ‘Adonis’ could suggest that—as in the myth—he died before his wife, from an accident or illness, and that she may well still have been alive when the sarcophagus was made.
The left third of the frieze shows Adonis bidding farewell to Aphrodite as he departs for the hunt, which we have seen before. Aphrodite holds out her right arm as if she is speaking, and at the same time touches the breast of her beloved; Adonis has his right hand, holding an ear of corn, resting on her knee. A servant leading the horse is already beginning to move off and has turned to look back at the couple; the head of another servant is visible in the background.
The tragic hunting accident is illustrated in the right-hand third of the frieze. Adonis, his left arm raised in defense and carrying his spear in his right hand, has collapsed wounded. Two hunting companions are trying in vain to fight off the boar with stones and spears. A cupid is beckoning to Aphrodite, who is rushing out of the gates of her palace, gesturing in horror as she realizes what has happened. She appears just in time to witness the disaster, but too late to prevent it. Even the mountain god sitting in the upper corner of the image has lifted his right arm in horror.
The portraits of the couple in the central scene belong to the middle-to-late Severan period, and date the sarcophagus to around the year 220; the portrait of the ‘Aphrodite’ is very comparable to the likeness of Iulia Maesa (sister-in-law of the emperor Septimus Severus).
The sarcophagus was found along with a Hippolytus sarcophagus made in the same Roman workshop, in the so-called Tomb of the Pancratii on the Via Latina in Rome. The sarcophagi were probably originally used for members of the same family.
Source: Zanker P. & Ewald BC., Living the Myths: The Imagery of Roman Sarcophagi
Marble sarcophagus
Ca. 220 AD
Vatican City State, Vatican Museums, Museo Gregoriano Profano
I was delighted to see a pair of robins flying in and out of my garden recently during the lovely weather we had.
Bain News Service,, publisher.
Maazel
[between ca. 1920 and ca. 1925]
1 negative : glass ; 5 x 7 in. or smaller.
Notes:
Title from unverified data provided by the Bain News Service on the negatives or caption cards.
Forms part of: George Grantham Bain Collection (Library of Congress).
Format: Glass negatives.
Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication. For more information, see George Grantham Bain Collection - Rights and Restrictions Information www.loc.gov/rr/print/res/274_bain.html
Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print
Part Of: Bain News Service photograph collection (DLC) 2005682517
General information about the George Grantham Bain Collection is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.ggbain
Higher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/ggbain.33098
Call Number: LC-B2- 5549-12
Please let it load for 1 or 2 seconds more than you normally do for most images. Often, it will get more clear.
When I was a kid we called these Cyclone Fences, but the groups on Flickr call them Chain Link Fences. Nobody is being called right or wrong, just different. LOL
HFF
Dear Dave C. and other interested Flickrites:
I think the soul of this photo is all the baby trees being so carefully tended and protected. I believe, but do not know for sure, that they are Filbert (also called Hazelnut) trees. That is the State Nut of Oregon. (I thought I was, ha! ha!). Seriously, Hazelnuts have been subject to a horrible blight here in Oregon and many crops totally ruined. I was talking this over with a State employee (I don't know his name or title), but I was asking him about the horrible damage done to Oregon's filbert crops. I asked if there were something that could be sprayed to kill the blight. He said, "No, nothing will likely ever kill it completely; but things have been developed that will weaken it substantially."
I'm thinking these baby trees with the protective white covers may have been treated with as good as was available so far in our Oregon agriculture.
(IMGP2313ChainLinkFenceBabyTreesHwyCloudsTUflickr091319)
Two or three hundred years ago, when people were far from being so crafty and cunning as they are now-a-day, an extraordinary event took place in a little town. By some mischance one of the great owls, called horned owls, had come from the neighboring woods into the barn of one of the townsfolk in the night-time, and when day broke did not dare to venture forth again from her retreat, for fear of the other birds, which raised a terrible outcry whenever she appeared. In the morning when the man-servant went into the barn to fetch some straw, he was so mightily alarmed at the sight of the owl sitting there in a corner, that he ran away and announced to his master that a monster, the like of which he had never set eyes on in his life, and which could devour a man without the slightest difficulty, was sitting in the barn, rolling its eyes about in its head. "I know you already," said the master, "you have courage enough to chase a blackbird about the fields, but when you see a dead hen lying, you have to get a stick before you go near it. I must go and see for myself what kind of a monster it is," added the master, and went quite boldly into the granary and looked round him. When, however, he saw the strange grim creature with his own eyes, he was no less terrified than the servant had been. With two bounds he sprang out, ran to his neighbours, and begged them imploringly to lend him assistance against an unknown and dangerous beast, or else the whole town might be in danger if it were to break loose out of the barn, where it was shut up. A great noise and clamour arose in all the streets, the townsmen came armed with spears, hay-forks, scythes, and axes, as if they were going out against an enemy; finally, the senators appeared with the burgomaster at their head. When they had drawn up in the market- place, they marched to the barn, and surrounded it on all sides. Thereupon one of the most courageous of them stepped forth and entered with his spear lowered, but came running out immediately afterwards with a shriek and as pale as death, and could not utter a single word. Yet two others ventured in, but they fared no better. At last one stepped forth; a great strong man who was famous for his warlike deeds, and said, "You will not drive away the monster by merely looking at him; we must be in earnest here, but I see that you have all tuned into women, and not one of you dares to encounter the animal." He ordered them to give him some armour, had a sword and spear brought, and armed himself. All praised his courage, though many feared for his life. The two barn-doors were opened, and they saw the owl, which in the meantime had perched herself on the middle of a great cross-beam. He had a ladder brought, and when he raised it, and made ready to climb up, they all cried out to him that he was to bear himself bravely, and commended him to St. George, who slew the dragon. When he had just got to the top, and the owl perceived that he had designs on her, and was also bewildered by the crowd and the shouting, and knew not how to escape, she rolled her eyes, ruffled her feathers, flapped her wings, snapped her beak, and cried, "Tuwhit, tuwhoo," in a harsh voice. "Strike home! strike home!" screamed the crowd outside to the valiant hero. "Any one who was standing where I am standing," answered he, "would not cry, strike home!" He certainly did plant his foot one rung higher on the ladder, but then he began to tremble, and half-fainting, went back again.
And now there was no one left who dared to put himself in such danger. "The monster," said they, "has poisoned and mortally wounded the very strongest man among us, by snapping at him and just breathing on him! Are we, too, to risk our lives?" They took counsel as to what they ought to do to prevent the whole town being destroyed. For a long time everything seemed to be of no use, but at length the burgomaster found an expedient. "My opinion," said he, "is that we ought, out of the common purse, to pay for this barn, and whatsoever corn, straw, or hay it contains, and thus indemnify the owner, and then burn down the whole building, and the terrible beast with it. Thus no one will have to endanger his life. This is no time for thinking of expense, and niggardliness would be ill applied." All agreed with him. So they set fire to the barn at all four corners, and with it the owl was miserably burnt. Let any one who will not believe it, go thither and inquire for himself.