SAM BLACK 211 



the old crows and get the young ones. We laid plans to do 

 this but at the last moment mother persuaded us it would 

 be a mean trick to kill the old birds and take their young, 

 so we had to be content with getting the young and de- 

 stroying the nest. Perhaps it is hardly Just to say we, for 

 I stayed outside of the thicket while Brother John, who 

 had reached the great age of twelve and of course was not 

 afraid of anything, got the birds. There were five of them. 

 We took them all to the house and killed one and hung it 

 on a pole some distance from the chicken yard as an ef- 

 fective preventative of Jim's ravages in that vicinity. 



Two of the young birds were given to a neighbor boy, 

 and I started in on the rather doubtful job of feeding and 

 caring for the remaining two. I fed them on bread soaked 

 in milk, pieces of meat, cooked beans, Dutch cheese, mice, 

 and insects of all kinds ; in fact, whatever seemed to be con- 

 venient. 



It is no trouble to teach a young crow to eat. Indeed, 

 eating seems to be his one interest in life. After the first 

 day I could not come in sight without both crows setting 

 up an insistent plea to be fed. To nourish a young crow 

 so that he will gain strength as fast as under his mother's 

 care is quite diflScult. Milk was hard to get, and it was 

 easier to stuff the crows with white bread soaked in water 

 than to provide them plenty of insects and milk or curd. 

 While for two or three days these birds thrived amazingly 

 they soon began to droop and have a rough bedraggled 

 looking coat. I stuffed them full of white bread and water 

 every little while, but they were never satisfied. They 

 would utter the most mournful little cry every little while 

 and acted as if they were starving — which in fact they 

 were, starving while being fed to the limit. Finally the 



