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Bird- Lore 



brown paper behind or under the pan for a lighter background, and 

 at first the birds hopped nervously when it moved, but they soon 

 got used to it, and ate on it and on the pan, as it happened. And 

 how they did stuff ! They were so absorbed that, although I sat 

 within four feet of the pan, they sometimes came too near for me to 

 focus. They paid so little heed to my presence I have no doubt 

 they would have eaten from my hand had I not been engaged in 

 keeping them at a proper distance. When the raw meat was gone 

 Mrs. Langille gave me a supply of cooked fat, and it was astonish- 

 ing to see how much of the greasy stuff they could swallow. I 

 caught one just as he was about to fly off with a billful of it. The 

 fat seemed to make them thirsty ; the}^ had to go to the hydrant to 

 wash it down with cold water. 



Meat Hawk, the name the mountaineers have for them; is 



certainly appropriate. They are on 

 the lookout for meat wherever it is 

 to be found, be it kitchen door or 

 forest. Their appetite for game is 

 truly remarkable. Mr. Langille told 

 me he might go through the woods 

 all day without seeing a single Jay, 

 but if he killed a deer and the smell 

 of blood filled the air, in a few 

 moments the birds would be about, 

 calling and whistling ; and, embol- 

 dened by the prospect of a feast, they 

 would fly down and perch upon the 

 carcass within reach of his hand, sometimes before the deer was 

 entirely skinned. 



On Mount Shasta, although the Nutcrackers came about camp, 

 they showed no desire for camp food, and on Hood Mr. Langille 

 informed me that the Crows tamed this year were the first they had 

 ever succeeded in coaxing about. After I left the mountain they be- 

 came still more familiar, and, I am told, would gather in the trees at 

 daybreak and call until the family went out to feed them. 



CLARK S CROW 



Photographed from nature by Walter K. Fisher 



