2 8o The Field Natur alls fs QiLarterly Nov. 



when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack 

 of meat," to mean that the Raven deserts his young. 

 This is very disgraceful on his part if it be true, but not 

 more disgraceful than what many migratory birds do, if 

 they happen to have a brood so late that they cannot join 

 in the general migration. This is widely known to natural- 

 ists ; but it is always well to produce one definite witness. 

 I therefore quote from Mr F. M. Duncan's ' Feathered 

 Travellers ' : " Directly the time arrives for birds to de- 

 part, the young that have hatched out late, and are not 

 perhaps half fledged, are deserted by their parents and left 

 to perish miserably from cold and starvation." 



Shakspear was familiar with this view of the Raven's 

 conduct, but attributes to it charitable feelings (" Titus 

 Andronicus," i. 3) — 



" Some say that ravens foster forlorn children 

 The whilst their own birds famish in their nest." 



To the ordinary layman the Raven does not commend 

 himself much more ; his black shineless coat and his deep 

 sepulchral voice have a depressing effect on one. I admit to 

 having been deeply impressed when wandering alone in the 

 garden in a small German inn, on suddenly hearing a deep 

 voice call after me " Spitzbube." I looked round to see who 

 could be thus insulting me, when the remark was repeated. 

 I then saw a big black raven sitting on the wall, with his 

 head on one side, apparently pleased with the effect he had 

 produced. I do not think that any one has expressed one's 

 feelings with regard to the bird better than the Shepherd in 

 the * Noctes ' : — 



" A raven rugging at the bowels of a dead horse is naething, 

 but ane sitting by himself on a rock in some lanely glen, and 

 croak croaking, naebody can think why, noo looking savagely 

 up at the sun, and noo tearing, no in hunger, for his crop is 

 full of carrion, but in anger and rage, the moss aneath him 

 with beak and tawlons ; and though you shout at him wi' a' 

 your micht, never steering a single fit frae his stane, — I say, 

 sir, that sic a bird, wi' sic unaccountable conduct, in sic an 

 inhuman solitude, is a frichtsome demon." 



It is under this aspect, as a bird of ill - omen, that he 



