118 NOTES ON THE ROOK. 



perchance descend to the ground, the old birds immediately follow to ascertain 

 the result, and if not killed, but able to hop or jump along, they entice it 

 away to some place of shelter, such as under a bush or shrub, and daily 

 attend to its wants, till it is able to take wing, if no prowling enemy in 

 the meantime has devoured it. Then they roam about without restraint, till 

 their strength fails them, and then, solitary and resigned, they patiently await 

 death on the brink of the same stream where they sang their loves, and 

 beneath the trees which bear the nests of their posterity. The young, for 

 a few evenings after flight, will return with their parents, and roost where 

 they were bred. It is amusing to watch with what care the parents lead 

 them forth in search of food, walking about in the meadows and other grass 

 lands collecting snails, slugs, and insects, while the young are cawing around, 

 or watching with anxious eye a passing fly, at which they will make a dart, 

 and invariably succeed in making a mouthful of it. When the old birds 

 have collected sufiicient, they will hop and strut with much dignity towards 

 the young, who are ready with open mouths to receive the dainty morsel, which 

 the old birds give them by thrusting their beaks into the open ones of their 

 young, into which they empty the contents of their own. In a short time 

 after this, that is when the young are able to take long flights, they betake 

 themselves off", as we have before said, to the downs, moors, and heaths in 

 search of food. As soon as autumn is felt, they return to their forsaken 

 habitations, and will often set about repairing the same, as if they intended 

 a second incubation. After a consultation and a good deal of bustle, and 

 some slight misunderstanding, they fix upon the most sheltered part of the 

 Rookery to roost in for the winter, but if a small Rookery, they betake 

 themselves to the nearest larger one. They now make excursions during the 

 day to the adjacent fields, and in their flight to and from the same they 

 make, or rather perform, a variety of evolutions, which to the naturalist 

 are very interesting; the cause of such gambols I cannot understand. From 

 the fields where they have been busily engaged, if the weather has been 

 open, in pulling up the roots of plants in search of insects, they return 

 about dusk, sometimes in clouds, but generally in a sort of line, with a slow 

 and steady flight. 



The Rook is very bold in defence of his home and young, not suffering 

 the Crow, Raven, or Heron to roost or build near his habitation. If one 

 of these intruders should be bold enough to make his appearance, the whole 

 colony gives chase and battle; and should a Hawk hover in sight, he is 

 glad to beat a retreat in double-quick time. Yet they permit the Starling, 

 who, bye-the-bye, is a regular companion of the Rook in his rambles through 

 the meadows; the Sparrow and the sprightly Tomtit to build and rear 

 their young in a hole in their nests, being well aware that there is nothing 

 to fear from these birds. The Rook is grateful for any kindness it may 

 receive from man's hands. During our residence at Milton Abbey, in Dorset- 

 shire, the old birds, with their young, regularly every year paid a visit to 



