The Chorus of the Forest 



in the manner of a human being crying, "Look out! 

 Some one is coming!" Then there was a syllabi- 

 cated cry, consisting of five notes, that was their 

 longest utterance and was delivered with tucked 

 tail, half-lifted wings, and bobbing head, as if to 

 make the speech impressive by gesture as well as 

 sentiment. It scarcely would do to write of this 

 production as a song, perhaps it might be called a 

 recitative, to give it a little musical color. In very 

 truth it resembled plain conversation and was used 

 at such times and in such manner as to lead me to 

 believe that passing crows were remarking to their 

 friends: "Everything is all right with me. How 

 goes life with you?" 



I am rather fond of crows. They are so lov- 

 ing to each other that they arouse sentiment in my 

 breast. I believe they pair for life, and both of 

 them defend their nests and young with reckless 

 bravery. Good qualities, surely! They are know- 

 ing birds and early learn to distinguish a hoe from 

 a gun. When they find you without firearms they 

 become impudent and inquisitive, and allow you to 

 approach very close. There is proof that they are 

 individual birds because they are used constantly 

 as the basis of comparison by men who call each 

 other "wise as a crow," "black as a crow," "as sly," 

 and "as cunning." 



Whether crows are all these things in freedom 

 would be difficult to prove, since they scarcely ever 

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