Crows 261 
ward, when a shot startled me and the crow fell 
dead. I was about sixty rods away, but the crows 
did not heed me in the least. Something which an 
old hunter told me some years ago about shooting 
crows from ‘“‘a blind” now passed through my mind, 
and I looked for a blind by the fence, near the 
bird on the post. All that I could make out, 
from where I was standing, was a heap of what 
appeared to be cornstalks among the bushes. I 
was thoroughly interested in the scene before me, 
and seating myself upon a large stone, I took out my 
field-glass and began a most careful study of the 
situation. Just then two crows made a dive for the 
owl, and one of them was shot. It was now all clear 
to me, and I waited an hour for the “‘wing-hunter”’ 
to come from his place of concealment. When he 
did, I made his acquaintance, and soon he was telling 
me ‘‘all” about crows and their wonderful intelli- 
gence. The morning had netted him six crows, the 
wings of which he disposed of to a New York firm 
at fifty cents a pair, to be used later in the decoration 
of hats for women. 
The bird on the post proved to be a mounted great 
horned owl, and the heap of cornstalks covered the 
framework of a “blind.” With the consent of the 
owner, I soon began my own study of crows from this 
