A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



Crows possess a language which enables 

 them to communicate to each other anything 

 that relates to crow-life. They can hold long 

 confabs, and then act intelligently from evi- 

 dent conclusions. 



In the years when I lived happily with my 

 shotgun, before a divorce was decreed, I 

 planted a bushel of potatoes in the woods 

 on the west side of Magnolia Swamp. Fire 

 had cleared the side-hill, and the prospect of 

 a crop was good. 



The crows gathered in some dead trees, 

 out of gunshot, to criticize my work, and 

 seemed to be highly elated. Raw potatoes are 

 not down on the crow bill of fare, so I thought 

 there would be a great disappointment when 

 they investigated my work. The second day 

 after I had finished planting I visited the 

 spot, and found that the crows had dug up 

 every hill on the south half of the field. There 

 were three pieces of potato beside each hill, 

 so the crows did not dig them up for food. 

 Why they did so much hard work for nothing 

 was beyond my knowledge of crow-life. I 

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