1 68 LOCH C RERAN. 



twelvemonth. How gay is the scene as we sit under the 

 ear-splitting rookery, and peer through the many-tinted 

 trees at the loch beneath us ; while we listen to the tales 

 of the doings of rooks, under the peculiar circumstances 

 of the late season. These birds had completed their 

 nests under the natural impression that the mild, early 

 spring was to continue, and they were conducting them- 

 selves with sobriety, and with the peculiar solemnity and 

 decorum that approaching " paterfamiliarity " seems to 

 give to the most undignified of beings, and that sits so 

 well upon his sable rookship. But suddenly there came 

 a change, and the bitter east wind swept down upon 

 them, and the snow fell thickly for a day or two, and all 

 the vicinity looked as if Nature had made a mistake, 

 and sent the spring first, to be now followed by the bitter 

 season. The rooks at first were thoroughly demoralised, 

 for were not their nests built open, and of the rudest 

 sticks, without a fraction of warmth, or the smallest 

 claim to comfort and snugness ! How were their young, 

 just on the point of emerging, ever to sit in such exposed 

 quarters, without an effort by the parents to hap them 

 from the wind? Now, rooks have built their nests of 

 sticks since ever a rookery was established, we suppose, 

 and it is so commonly understood that birds act from 

 " instinct," and are incapable of introducing a new style 

 of architecture or a new mode of construction, that any 

 change at this time of day is absurd to expect ! Yet 

 what do those sable birds do under the unusual circum- 

 stances ? Do they sit close in the nests in a half-frozen 

 condition, and endeavour to impart their own vitality to 

 the coming young, regardless of the personal cost, or fly 

 about in a disconsolate condition, bewailing in guttural 

 accents the untoward weather ? No ! The first morn- 



