TALKS WITH YOUNG OHSEKVEKS 315 



VII 



The other day I was walking in the silent, 

 naked April woods when I said to myself, 

 "There is nothing in the woods." 



I sat down upon a rock. Then I lifted up 

 my eyes and beheld a newly constructed crow's 

 nest in a hemlock tree near by. The nest was 

 but little above the level of the top of a ledge 

 of rocks only a few yards away that crowned 

 the rim of the valley. But it was placed be- 

 hind the stem of the tree from the rocks, so as 

 to be secure from observation on that side. 

 The crow evidently knew what she was about. 

 Presently I heard what appeared to be the voice 

 of a young crow in the treetops not far oft\ 

 This I knew to be the voice of the female, and 

 that she was being fed by the male. She was 

 probably laying, or about beginning to lay, eggs 

 in the nest. Crows, as well as most of our 

 smaller birds, always go through the rehearsal 

 of this act of the parent feeding the young many 

 times while the young are yet a long way in tlie 

 future. The mother bird seems timid and baby- 

 ish, and both in voice and manner assumes the 

 character of a young fledgling. The male brings 

 the food and seems more than usually solicitous 

 about her welfare. Is it to conserve her 

 strength or to make an impression on the devel- 

 oping eggs 1 The same thing may be observed 

 among the domestic pigeons, and is always a 

 sign that a new brood is not far off. 



When the young do come the female is usu- 



