286 THE RAVEN. 



Some few years after the ravens had been plundered by the cobbler, 

 either the same couple or a stranger pair built their nest in an oak 

 of moderate size, within a few yards of an ornamented sheet of water, 

 and about two miles distant from the wood to which they had resorted 

 in better times. The gentleman's gamekeeper, like all others of that 

 sanguinary set, was on the look-out, and on seeing the nest, he 

 fancied that he had discovered a den of thieves who had settled 

 there to pilfer poultry, and to worry his master's hares and pheasants 

 by the dozen. The poor female was shot down dead to the ground ; 

 but, fortunately, the male escaped assassination. He tarried for a 

 day or two in the environs, and then deserted us for ever. From 

 the day of his disappearance, I have never seen or heard a wild 

 raven in this part of the country, and times are now so changed for 

 the worse, that I despair of ever seeing again this fine British bird 

 in any of our woods. 



He who wishes to study the habits of the raven in its own native 

 haunts must not look for him here. He must bend his steps to 

 those parts of Yorkshire where the bird is still allowed to exist 

 There is a brood of ravens every season on the rocks near Flam- 

 borough Head ; and, no doubt, others are to be found, at certain 

 intervals, along the vast extent of that bold and rock-bound shore. 

 The nest is chiefly made of the same materials as that of the carrion 

 crow, with the addition of a few dried weeds which grow on the 

 coast. I have never taken the eggs, but if I may judge from one in 

 my possession, the egg is remarkably small for the size of the bird ; 

 and in colour, it bears a close resemblance to the egg of the carrion 

 crow. The young, like those of all the pie tribe, are hatched blind. 

 On leaving the nest their feathers have a brownish cast ; but after 

 the first moulting, the birds acquire that glossy richness of plumage 

 which is so conspicuous in the raven. 



Though the naturalist will feel but little interest in the habits of 

 a bird which is brought up as a pet, under the immediate inspection 

 of man ; still I cannot help remarking here, that of all known birds 

 (the gray red-tailed parrot of Africa not excepted), there is none to 

 be found so docile, so clever, and so amusing as the raven. I bought 

 a young one about three years ago, at the well-known village ot 

 Flamborough, and I called it Marco. Marco could do everything. 



