462 THE ROOK. 



they were busy building their nest ; in four clays it was 

 finished, arid in ten there were five eggs in it ; but another 

 pair tried to dislodge them. A scuffle took place, and knocked 

 out one of the eggs. As the schooner was windbound and 

 sailed next day, the nest was torn down ; the four eggs were 

 blown, and prized by the captain as a memento of the singular 

 nest on his schooner's foremast. The schooner was owned and 

 sailed by our present Harbourmaster, Mr Peas, who at the time 

 wrote to his brother here, saying : — 



" The same day we came down from Rosstack two crows came and held 

 a survey on our mast-heads— more particularly the fore-mast-head (I mean 

 the lower mast-head)— and having found a site they approved of, they 

 commenced operations very early next morning on the fore-mast-head, the 

 foundation-sticks being laid before any of us were up. And, the clay before 

 we sailed, five eggs were laid. The wind changed, and we had to dismantle 

 the whole." 



His mate was so anxious about the eggs that he tried to get 

 them set beneath a " clocking" bantam hen. Early in March 

 1893 a pair built on an elm tree near Kinness Burn. They 

 must have been young birds, proud of a big house, for they 

 built until the nest was 32 inches high. As a natural result of 

 pride it was blown down in a gale on the 14th ; but they 

 showed true pluck. They did not sit in despair, as man might 

 have done at such complete destruction of his mansion, but at 

 once began to construct a less nest— as experience not only 

 teaches fools but rooks. It was finished on the 20th, and in 

 the more humble structure safely reared their young — another 

 lesson from a bird ! In 1887, March, as usual — like Sir 

 William Harcourt — came in blustering, cold and stormy, which 

 delayed them till the 5th, when they partly began to build. 

 On the 9th a heavy easterly sea and snowstorm set in. On the 

 12th and 13th, when the ground was covered six inches deep 

 with snow, they persevered, and flew to the sea beach for sticks 

 when they could not get them on the ground. I went to the 

 East and West Sands and Kinkell Beach to observe them. 

 They selected, tried each stick, shook them, and, if satisfied, 

 took them to their nest, for, if late when they begin, they are 

 determined to finish ; but I have seen them begin on the 22nd 

 of February, and by bad weather wait till March 7th. They 

 were late, and worked overtime, for I watched them till half- 

 past six o'clock — nearly dark — busy carrying their sticks — even 

 on the Sabbath night, when man was going to church — to rest, 

 perhaps to sleep — in his pew. On an old hawthorn tree, 

 planted by Queen Mary in Dean's Court, opposite the west gable 



