442 THE RAVEN. 



of ravens collected from all quarters and remained for weeks 

 feeding on the carcases. As harvest was near, the inhabitants 

 feared that when the supply of food failed the ravens would 

 attack their barley, from which they expected to pay their rents 

 (illicit distilling being then carried on). Many plans were tried 

 to frighten them away without success. The ravens in a body 

 roosted on a low cliff on the east side of the island, crowded 

 together on the shelves. Some of the men went after dark and 

 caught a number, took them away, plucked off all the feathers 

 but those of the wings and tail, and in the morning, when the 

 rest were leaving their roosting-places, let loose the living scare- 

 crows, which so terrified the others (or they wisely took the 

 hint) that, like a routed army, they fled in a body, left the 

 island, and did not return." Now, no two kinds of food could 

 be more varied than blubber and barley. But it is w T ell able to 

 fulfil its varied mission, for though simply it is "powerfully 

 armed. Its strong beak, three inches long, can clip flesh as 

 well as an eagle's, or pick a bone as clean as a tomtit's, and can 

 dig into entrails or suck an egg better than either. The upper 

 mandible has its ridge slightly arched and bent at the tip. The 

 sides are convex, the base concave, covered with bristles for 

 half its length. The cutting edges are sharp, the tip acute. 

 Internally it is concave and grooved, as if specially made for 

 use. Nor are its powerful legs, protected by eight armoured 

 scutella, and feet armed with strong, sharp claws, less effective 

 for use or war. Its muscular wings and well-knit frame, its 

 neck of medium length and strong, and its large, oblong head, 

 arched about the same curve as the bill, form a perfect base 

 for its chief offensive and defensive weapon, as if Nature 

 specially designed the raven to be a winged piece of mechanism 

 of the highest order for general use ; and well may she be 

 proud of her handiwork, for this gloomy bird is perfection 

 itself for the mission it has to fulfil. Yet it is no match for the 

 peregrine falcon in the air. An eye-witness saw them meet. 

 The raven fell dead, its throat ripped up by the hind claw of 

 the falcon, as clean cut as by a knife, in its upward swoop. 

 But on the ground the falcon is no match for the raven. It is 

 an early breeder, begins to repair its old nest in February, lays 

 five or six eggs, small for the size of the bird — 2 inches by If — 

 pale or dark green, spotted and blotched, like those of the 

 carrion crow or rook ; but all the eggs of the genus resemble 

 each other ; so do their nests. It is bulky and deep, composed 

 of sticks and twigs of heath, plastered with mud, lined with 



