WITH THE RAVENS IN WALES 45 



for some of quite the wildest country in the county, 

 perhaps ten miles distant. Mr. Pike to-day brings 

 his camera, and the first thing pictured is the once 

 site of a Raven's nest ; indeed, a few sticks and a flake 

 or two of wool have been added to the remains of 

 the old home. Here, too, the camera nearly bids us 

 farewell for good. Mr. Pike pins it to the cliffside 

 with our little alpenstock whilst we investigate the 

 old Raven's nest, and we, not knowing this, on our 

 return casually pick up the stick, when, of course, the 

 camera goes bounding down the precipitous slope 

 towards a sheer drop of some sixty feet. Fortunately 

 a mountain-ash checks its giddy career, for though 

 we pursue it madly down the hillside as far as the 

 precipice, we are no match for it in speed ; and but 

 for that lucky tree we should have been unable to 

 depict any of the scenes shown in this chapter. As 

 it turns out, no damage is done at all, and we resume 

 our tramp ; shortly reaching some perfectly magnifi- 

 cent rocks towering above the stream perhaps a 

 thousand feet, though not all of them perpendicular. 

 Mr. Pike and the keeper pursue the course of the 

 valley, whilst we scale some big rocks on the right, 

 where a pair of Ravens have bred from time to time. 

 There is no nest just here, however ; but seeing a 

 Raven fly across the valley, we follow the course of 

 the cliff and await the arrival of the others. Whilst 

 sitting down enjoying a well-earned pipe we are 

 overjoyed to see a fork-tailed Kite sail across the 

 ravine towards an oak wood growing on the other 

 side. Poor Kite! your days are numbered in the 

 British Isles, we fear, unless drastic measures be 



