SOUTH CORNWALL. 27 



approaching it. To my relief he seemed well disposed, and having introduced 

 himself as " only a bit of a moucher, that did no harm to anybody, but just 

 had a few rabbit snares down below," he went on to suggest that I should have 

 a shot at a rabbit myself. I explained that I was after a Raven, and as my 

 late quarry was still within sight, I signified my intention of pursuing it. 



"That a Ra-aven," said the moucher, with ill-concealed disdain; "why, 

 it's a Crow ! " And as six others turned up at this moment and joined company 

 with my bird, I saw at once that he was right. Not a little humbled by this 

 rebuff, I asked if he knew where the Ravens were, and made out at length, 

 from his somewhat disconnected utterances, that they came very early every 

 morning to a certain butcher's refuse heap within a quarter of a mile of Lizard 

 Town. I then left him to his rabbits, and the Crow to its well-earned repose, 

 returned forthwith to my lodgings, and arranged to be called next morning at 

 five o'clock. The field I knew well, having previously marked it as a likely 

 place, for I had seen both Crows and Gulls hovering over it as we drove in the 

 first afternoon. It was within range of two low walls, and seemed in every 

 way suitable for a successful stalk. 



Alas ! for human calculations ; the refuse heap, a veritable bovine golgotha, 

 was too attractive. Birds were always coming and going, and it was moreover 

 too near the high-road. As we approached, a Crow arose and hovered. It saw 

 us, and giving the alarm put up every bird in the field, and away they went, 

 the Ravens, if there were any, with them. The only thing to do was to retire 

 to the village and give them time to settle again. Half an hour later we again 

 advanced to the assault, crawled across the first field, and reached the cover of 

 the wall. Rising cautiously behind some furze bushes, we got a partial view 

 of the refuse heap, on the top of which stood a grand old Greater Black-backed 

 Gull. Around were a number of Herring-Gulls and Crows, and while we 

 peered about to try and discover a Raven, they gradually got wind of our 

 presence, and before we had completed our inspection up they got in a confused 

 mass. We both fired hurriedly at the Black-back, but to our intense disgust away 

 he sailed apparently untouched, and two wretched immature Herring Gulls fell 

 headlong to the ground. Such was the end of our first attempt. The second 

 was equally exasperating. On the next day we again got up early and set 

 off for the heap. While still on the road, a man passed us in a cart, and his 

 horse saw fit to jib just opposite the Raven's field. The noise of the ensuing 

 altercation put up everything before we could get within range, and we had the 

 pleasure of hearing the undoubted croak of a Raven amidst the departing 

 crowd. The next day was our last, and once more we were doomed to failure. 

 We got there too early this time, and a couple of Ravens coming up from 



