THE RAVEN 81 



and one of the brood flew strongly out across the gorge, 

 settling on the grass on the farther side of the little glen. 

 He was almost immediately followed by a second Raven 

 whose powers of flight were not so fully developed, and 

 who came to ground in some rocks near, while a third 

 member of the family, after holding on grimly by one 

 claw to the nesting ledge for a while, was obliged to let 

 go his hold, and fell to the ground beneath. But the 

 fourth youngster showed no inclination to fly — ^he had 

 never been much in evidence, and, indeed, during the 

 first visit had been quite overlooked for a while — and 

 pressed himself back against the rock as far out of sight 

 as possible. The parent Ravens, on seeing the departure 

 of their family in so unceremonious a fashion, circled 

 nearer, barking repeatedly, and this barking was in- 

 creased when I descended and attempted to photograph 

 the representative who had fallen from the nest. This 

 young Raven was, I think, the largest and most vigorous 

 of the brood, and as I approached set up the most dis- 

 cordant and terrified croaking cries imaginable, cries 

 which reminded me forcibly of the callings of the Solan 

 Geese on that well-known nesting site of theirs, the Bass 

 Rock. My companion, in the meantime, had secured a 

 second Raven, and after extreme patience and much 

 difficulty we succeeded in obtaining a series of photographs 

 of them standing together on a rock. 



During this time what I imagine must have been the 

 mother Raven had alighted on the farther side of the 

 glen beside the young bird who had flown first and most 

 successfully, and seemed to be attempting to persuade 

 the small person to fly. It was then we noticed that 

 the adult birds were accompanied by a third Raven, 

 which I believe had only recently escaped from captivity 

 — having been taken from the same nest some seasons 

 before — and had attached itself to the family, probably 



