5 8 THE TRIBES ON MY FRONTIER. 



demoralizing than the aimless vagabondage by which it 

 maintains itself. It begins the day by watching the veran- 

 dah where you take your chota hazree, in hope to steal the 

 toast. When that hope is disappointed it wings its way to 

 the bazaar, where it contends with another crow for the re- 

 mains of a dead bandicoot flattened by a passing cart-wheel. 

 Then, recollecting that the breakfast-hour is near, it hurries 

 back, not to lose its chance of an eggshell or a fish-bone. On 

 the way it notices a new-fledged sparrow trying its feeble 

 wings, and, pouncing down ruthlessly, it carries the helpless 

 little sinner away to a convenient bough, where it sits and 

 pulls it to pieces and affects not to hear the pitiful screams 

 of the heartbroken parents. Later on it is watching a little 

 stream of water by the roadside and plucking out small 

 fishes as they pass, or it is vexing a frog in a paddy field, 

 or it has spied a swarm of flying ants and is sitting down 

 with a mixed company to supper. For another instance, 

 take the following which I myself witnessed, and say if any- 

 body could have a hand in such a transaction and preserve 

 his self-respect. A large garden lizard had wandered un- 

 wisely far from its tree, when two crows observed it and saw 

 their advantage. They alighted at once and introduced 

 themselves, like a couple of card-sharpers. Then the lizard 



