144 THE RAVEN 



upwards and repeat the process over and over 

 again. The old birds, meanwhile, kept flying 

 closely round, croaking and barking fiercely, with 

 every feather, on neck and head, erect in anger, 

 and often pitching in a tree close by. It was well 

 that they did not make-believe actually to attack 

 me ; for the slightest movement on my part to 

 ward them off must have thrown me to the ground. 

 In spite of the exertion, my hands and body were 

 numbed with the cold. I had taken up as many 

 nails as I could carry, some six or seven in a tin 

 box tied round my waist, and let it down with a 

 string, from time to time, to get it refilled by my 

 companion. As I climbed higher, the work grew 

 more dangerous, for the wind told more ; and a slip 

 would now not only have thrown me to the ground, 

 but have torn me to pieces with the nails which 

 thickly studded the trunk below. At last, the 

 first branch, some fifty feet from the ground, as 

 measured by the string, was reached, and the rest 

 was easy. 



There are few moments more exciting to an 

 enthusiastic bird's-nester than is the moment before 

 he looks into a nest, which he has had much 

 difficulty in reaching, and which may or may not 

 contain a rare treasure. One can almost hear one's 



