A Blue Cannibal 93 



Some things cause a great to-do in the jay world. 

 One day, while I was living in Kansas, the skeleton of a 

 jay, with the feathers still attached, was found in the 

 rubbish of an ash-pile in my rear yard, and exposed to 

 view. An hour later a half dozen or more jays were 

 flinging about in the peach tree above the feathers of 

 their dead comrade, screaming at the top of their voices, 

 "juking" their bodies, as is their wont when excited, and 

 glaring at the disheveled plumes on the ground. If it 

 was a funeral service, it certainly was a demonstrative 

 one, and I do not believe that their grief and terror were 

 affected. 



