ROOK 171 



During incubation the male assiduously feeds his sitting mate, 

 and occasionally changes places with her ; and after the young are 

 out of the shells both parents are engaged incessantly in collecting 

 food for them. From early morning until dark they may be seen 

 flying to and from the rookery, on each return journey carrying a 

 cluster of worms and grubs in the mouth. 



When the young are fully fledged they are seen perching 

 awkwardly on the branches near the nest, occasionally making 

 short, tentative flights, and apparently anxious to go forth into that 

 wide green world spread out beneath their cradle and watch-tower. 

 They are, happily, ignorant of the doom that awaits them ; for the 

 time is now near when the blood-tax must be levied on the com- 

 munity the price which is paid for protection ; and, the young only 

 being eatable, the slaughter must fall on them. As a rule, a few of 

 the young escape death, as, when the shooting begins, and the old 

 birds rise in haste to scatter in all directions, a few of the most 

 advanced young birds that are already strong on the wing follow 

 their parents to a place of safety. 



After the breeding season, which is usually over at the beginning 

 of June, the rookery is forsaken ; in some cases the birds disappear, 

 and do not return until the next spring ; more often they pay an 

 occasional visit to the rookery, and some rookeries are visited 

 almost daily by the birds. But for the rest of the year their 

 roosting-place is elsewhere, often at a considerable distance. In 

 districts where rooks are abundant there is generally one great 

 roosting-place, where the communities inhabiting the country for 

 many miles around are accustomed to congregate at the end of 

 each day. As the evening draws near the birds begin to arrive 

 from two, or three, or more directions, in detachments or long, loose 

 trains, flying steadily, at an equal height above the ground. Where 

 they settle the tree-tops are black with their numbers ; and as 

 fresh contingents pour in the noise of the cawing grows louder 

 and more continuous, until it is in volume like the sound of a 

 surging sea. At intervals large numbers of birds rise up, to hang 

 like a black cloud above the trees for some minutes, but as the 

 evening darkens they all finally settle down for the night ; still, in 

 so vast an assemblage there are always many waking individuals, 

 and a noise of subdued cawing may be heard throughout the hours of 

 darkness. With the returning light there is a renewal of the loud 

 noise and excitement, as the birds rise up and wheel about in the air 

 before setting out on their journey to their distant feeding- grounds. 



