406 LAND BIRDS 
walled cafions cut into the mountain ranges, the hoarse 
croaking of the Raven echoes back from cliff and wall.” 
You may watch him soaring through the cafions or over 
the barren valleys with his mate, but to study his nest- 
ing habits at close range would require the cunning of a 
Mephistopheles. Two or three hundred feet above the 
valley, and from thirty to fifty below the top of the cliff, 
on a narrow ledge of rock, sheltered by the overhanging 
mass, is the place he has chosen to build his nest and 
rear his young. More inaccessible than an eagle’s eyrie, 
few care to investigate it. Thus secure from human 
interference, year after year the pair return to it when 
the winter rains have given way to spring sunshine and 
all the birds of the air are seeking their mates. But the 
Raven, having chosen once, remains mated for life; and 
the nest, once built, serves for all his broods. A few 
more sticks to strengthen it, a little fresh wool or hair 
to line it, some strong new rootlets to keep the inner 
cup in shape, and the cradle is ready. In it are laid 
five, six, or seven large eggs, greenish, mottled with 
shades of brown, purple, and pinkish ; and both the birds 
brood alternately until, in twenty-one days, the nestlings 
emerge from the shells. They are not handsome babies, 
being naked and of a sickly greenish hue, as if they had 
been long dead and had become mummified, but they 
are the objects of great devotion on the part of both 
parents. One or the other is constantly near them, on 
the lookout for danger, and ready to act as a decoy 
to any aspiring investigator. Meanwhile the other has 
slipped down to the valley or beach for food. It may 
