133 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



by way of change, saw many a pretty bird, heard others 

 sing, and found a fish-crow lying upon the sand. This is 

 to me an interesting bird ; the more so, because so gener- 

 ally confounded with the common one. 



In March or April, as the weather proves, fish-crows 

 appear in scanty numbers along the river, following, I 

 think, the spring migration of the shad and herring; 

 and about each fisherman's cabin a pair is very likely 

 to be found. Although so much smaller than the com- 

 mon crow, with a very different cry, and given to 

 hawk-like soaring over the river, these differences have 

 not generally been noticed, and the strange impression has 

 arisen that a fish diet had the effect of making crows 

 foolish, for so the fishermen think these much less wary 

 birds must be dolts, as it were, from the common crowd 

 of crows. 



I have known them to become, at times, almost as fa- 

 miliar, but never as impudent, as magpies ; and, waiting 

 until the boat is manned and the shore deserted, they walk 

 to the very cabin door, hunting for scraps, and always 

 searching the debris left at the water's edge where the 

 seine is drawn ashore. Were these birds protected and en- 

 couraged, they would become, I doubt not, useful scaven- 

 gers; but unfortunately the unmerited curse of being a 

 crow rests upon them, and the average fisherman is un- 

 teachable. 



The prominent incident of the day occurred when I 

 reached a bend in the river where stands the bleached 

 trunk of a tall, dead tree. In its present forlorn condi- 

 tion it has doubtless withstood the storms of many a 

 winter ; but, though trembling in every breeze, and threat- 

 ening to fall whenever the wind freshens, the well- 

 anchored roots, grasping the drifted rocks, have strength 

 yet to prevent its overthrow, and, notwithstanding its 

 apparent insecurity, it is trusted by the birds. 



