82 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



home late that night with frost-bitten faces and ears, 

 and without a sight of the eggs of the northern raven. 

 The next day we took a train, and traveled forty 

 miles down the river to where, on a cliff overhanging 

 the water, a pair of ravens had nested for the last 

 fifty years. There we found numerous old nests, 

 but never a trace of any that were fresh. There too 

 we found a magnificent wild turkey hanging dead in 

 a little apple tree; it had come to a miserable end by 

 catching the toes of one foot in between two twigs 

 in such a way that it could not release itself. The 

 bright red color of its legs distinguished it from a 

 tame turkey. The Collector confided to me that the 

 ambition of his life was to find the nest of a wild 

 turkey, which is the rarest of all Pennsylvania 

 nests. Next to it from a collecting standpoint come 

 the nests of the Northern raven, pileated woodpecker, 

 and Blackburnian warbler, in the order named. 



March 12, 1919, found me again on a raven hunt 

 with the Collector. Before sunrise I was dropped 

 from a sleeper at a little mountain station set in a 

 hill country full of broad fields, swift streams, and 

 leafless trees, flanked by dark belts of pines and 

 hemlocks. Beyond the hills was raven-land, lonely, 

 wind-swept, full of lavender and misty-purple moun- 

 tains, with now and then a gap showing in their ram- 

 parts. It was in these gaps that the ravens nested, 

 always on the north side, farthest from the sun. 



Nearby was Treaster's Valley, which old Dan 

 Treaster won from a pack of black wolves before the 



