In the afternoon of the following day, we crossed the Aransas River.
While driving along the bed of the stream, we saw a large hole in the bank above us, about twenty feet from the water, and four or five from the top of the ground above. This hole we supposed to contain an owl's nest, and after ascending the bluff, we went back to investigate.
Clinging to the stunted grass on the edge of the bank, I let myself down to a narrow shelf of sand, about four feet from the top, and on a level with the hole. Digging a place in the sand for one of my hands, and flattening myself as much as possible, I stooped, and was about to insert my free hand into the opening, when, with a sound like the rushing of a mighty wind, a large owl made its exit.
This so startled me, that losing my balance, I slipped off the shelf of sand, and holding a handful of torn up grass roots, plunged down the embankment. Where I struck, the earth was soft and loose, and I was uninjured.