Feathered Stowaways 



As the P. and O. steamer Japan left Colombo 

 harbour on her homeward voyage in December, 

 a crow, which, perched in the rigging, was 

 hungrily watching the cook cutting up some 

 meat, was carried out to sea, and apparently 

 did not think it worth while to make any effort 

 to return. 



He was not a very prosperous-looking crow, 

 for his face was bare of feathers on one side, 

 and possibly he thought that a sea voyage 

 might be of benefit to his constitution. Be 

 that as it may, he stayed on board, and was 

 regularly fed ; at night he roosted aloft in the 

 rigging. 



This was well while the weather was calm, 

 but a day or two before we got in to Suez 

 it began to blow very hard one night, and in 

 the morning the poor crow was found worn out 

 by his efforts to hold on in the teeth of the 

 wind. With characteristic prudence, he deter- 

 mined the next night to roost under the awning, 

 but the ship's cats showed such a desire to 

 make his closer acquaintance that his friends 

 on board decided that he would be safer caught 

 and caged. 



He bore his imprisonment with good grace 



and appetite, like my old friend the shrike, but 



his adventures had a sad ending. The weather 



was terribly cold when we reached England in 



165 



