126 A ROOK STORY 



for a place, screaming with excitement and tearing 

 at the flesh. He said it was a most extraordinary 

 spectacle; it fascinated him; he watched it by the 

 hour and would not allow the carcass to be taken 

 down. The next day the birds returned in greater 

 numbers and continued their sanguinary feast until 

 nothing but the suspended skeleton remained. 



This incident throws no light on the question of 

 scent; I have related it just to show the rook as a 

 crow, and as an introduction to another incident — 

 one of the uncanny sort. 



This case too is given at second hand, nor was 

 it actually witnessed by my friend and informant 

 himself; but I have every faith in him; he is a 

 naturalist, a worker now in marine biology, and 

 was staying at the time in Essex, close to where it 

 happened; he had a full account of it from those 

 who witnessed the scene, and was much impressed 

 in his mind about it. 



It happened at a manor-house in Essex with an 

 old and populous rookery on a group of elm trees 

 near the dwelling. The squire, an old man, was dying, 

 and on the day of his death the birds all at once rose 

 up with excited cawings and came streaming down to 

 the house to hover in a dense crowd before the win- 

 dows of the sick man's room, beating on the windows 

 with their wings, and screaming as if they had gone 

 mad. Naturally their action had a disturbing and 

 even terrifying effect on the inmates, and its uncanny 

 significance was increased when the birds rose up and 

 rushed away as if in terror, and when it was found 



