OUTDOORS 



the township. I killed a few with a rifle 

 after that, but not many. 



Since then I have not done any steady 

 crow-hunting. They fly over in the spring 

 and fall when a man is in the " blinds " hunt- 

 ing ducks over the decoys, and sometimes I 

 take a crack at one, but not so often as I used 

 to. They do say some of the wise ones 

 that he is a great friend of the farmer. I 

 don't think so. But for his pertinacity, sense, 

 love of freedom, strength of flight, and hon- 

 orable suit of black I nevertheless salute him, 

 and respect the best of what he stands for. 



Send my soul on a sable wing, 

 Death, when the darkness falls on me; 

 Let me wander by land and sea 

 Free as the crow's flight; yea, as free 

 Winds and the white moon following. 



186 



