WATCHING ROOKS 283 



The "burr," in my opinion, when well and loudly 

 uttered for here, again, there is much variety marks 

 the maximum of a rook's content, at any rate in a 

 certain direction. 



"December i^th. At 7 A.M. I am at the point of the 

 road nearest to the rookery, and I hear the sweet 

 jangle, 'the musical confusion,' already beginning. 

 Not much, however subdued and occasional in- 

 fluenced, perhaps, by the heavy morning mist that 

 hangs over trees and earth. After a time I walk to 

 an oak just outside the plantation, and sit listening to 

 the rising hubbub now rising, now falling. A sad, 

 mist-hung morning, the earth lightly snow-decked ; 

 raw and chill, but not so frostily, bitingly cold as 

 yesterday and before. The general intonation of the 

 rook voice is pleasing and musical how much more 

 so than the roar of an at-home as the door is flung 

 open, even though one has not to go through that 

 door ! There is very great modulation and flexibility 

 more expression, more of a real voice than other 

 birds. One feels that beings producing such sounds 

 must be intelligent and have amiable qualities. One 

 of the prettiest babbles in nature ! 



"One catches 'qnook, qnook,' ' chuggerrer,' 'choo- 

 oo-oo.' At intervals the single, sudden squawk, or 

 continued trumpeting, of a pheasant, breaks abruptly 

 into the sea of sound, then mingles with it. Every 

 now and again, too, there is a sudden increase of 

 sound, which again sinks. 



"At 7.50 the rooks are still in bed, but a pheasant 

 a fine cavalier comes running towards me over 

 the snow. He makes a long and very fast run for 

 some fifty yards or so, then stops and draws himself 



