RAVENS, CURLEWS, AND EIDER-DUCKS 133 



The samphire-gatherer, however, would have blended 

 artistically, but neither he nor a kilted shepherd or 

 clansman would have had any more appreciative 

 perception of the beauties into which they fitted, 

 than the " choughs and crows " themselves, the sheep, 

 or the majority of tourists.* It is not a matter of 

 clothes alone. It would seem as though one must 

 stand outside of a thing, and therefore be out of 

 keeping with it, before one can feel and grasp it, 

 though, heaven knows, the one need not involve the 

 other. 



But, though I missed the feeding, I twice saw the 

 raven mother — the real one — cling on to the side of 

 the nest and look in upon her young ones, who rose 

 and greeted her hungrily. That was a glorious thing 

 to see. There was something in the bird's look almost 

 indescribable, a blending — as it seemed to me — of 

 cunning, criminal knowledge combined with light- 

 heartedness, and strong maternal affection. With the 

 first two of these, and with the stately, yet half 

 grotesque action, the bright, black eyes, and steely, 

 glossy - purpling plumage (it never looked black 

 through the glasses), a faint, flitting idea, as of the 

 devil, was communicated, enhancing and giving 

 piquancy to the delight. She hung thus for some 

 moments, seeming to enjoy the sight of her children, 

 yet all the while having her black, cunning eyes half 

 turned up towards myself Then she flew away, 

 joining her mate, who had waited for her some way 



* Scott, however, credits the Highlanders — I mean the rank and file — 

 with an artistic appreciation of the scenery amidst which they lived (see 

 " Rob Roy" ). I should bow to such an authority, but confess I find it 

 hard to believe. 



