THE RAVEN 83 



he had a comparatively poor time of it — he was scarcely 

 visible in the nest, being sent to the wall by his more 

 vigorous companions, and from his small size I suspect 

 that his share of the food provided was small. Thus, 

 when he discovered himself in complete and undisputed 

 possession of the home, his satisfaction was evident. 

 Through the glass I could see him walking about the 

 nest with a confident air which I am sure he had assumed 

 only during the last few hours. Then, whether the pangs 

 of hunger had commenced to assert themselves, or merely 

 to pass the time, the youngster began to pick up various 

 heather stalks lining the nest, moving about restlessly 

 the while. 



After a time he became wearied and settled down at 

 the bottom of the nest, where he was almost invisible from 

 my point of view. A shepherd and his dog crossing the 

 hill scared the parent Ravens away once more and so we 

 left our position and moved down to the lower grounds. 



A word as to the notes of the Raven. Compared to 

 his smaller relative, the Grey Crow, his alarm note is quiet 

 and dignified ; he never shrieks harshly like the Hoodie. 

 The usual note of the Raven when his nesting site is ap- 

 proached is a short gruff note uttered in a very low key 

 and reminding one forcibly of the barking of a dog. As 

 well as this cry the Raven makes use, though less fre- 

 quently, of a liquid call which resembles the drawing of 

 a cork from a bottle. 



A third eyrie which I visited about the time of which 

 I write was situated close on 1800 feet above sea-level in a 

 north-facing rock. Two nests were near each other, one 

 evidently the spare nest and in disuse, the other newly 

 lined with wool. Of the birds there was no sign, and I 

 think there can be little doubt but that the eggs had been 

 stolen. It was wild weather when I visited the eyrie ; 

 a strong wind from the west was lashing into foam the 



