RAVEN. — Cormis Corax. 



preventing the food from being thrown back into the mouth. I do not, however, think 

 that this suggestion is sufficient, as there is no reason why the Eaven should regurgitate 

 its food more than other birds which feed on similar substances. If the bird were in the 

 habit of eating living prey, such as lizards and other reptiles which retain life for a 

 considerable period and after considerable injuries, this idea might be a good one, but as 

 the Eaven always kills its prey before eating it, the theory will not hold ite ground. 



The cunning of the Eaven is proverbial, and anecdotes of its extraordinary intellectual 

 powers abound in various works. From the great mass of these stories I can only select 

 one or two which are not generally known. 



One of these birds struck up a great friendship for a terrier dog belonging to the 

 landlord of an inn, and carried his friendship so far as to accompany his ally in little 

 hunting expeditions. In these affairs the two comrades used to kill an astonishing 

 number of hares, rabbits, and other game, each taking his own share of the work. As 

 soon as they came to a covert, the Eaven would station himself outside, while the dog 

 would enter the covert and drive out the hares from their concealment, taking care to 

 send them in the direction of the watchful bird. On his part the Eaven always posted 

 himself close to one of the outlets, and as soon as any living creature passed within 

 reach, he would pounce upon it, and either destroy it at once or wait until the dog came 

 to his assistance, when by their united efforts the prey was soon killed. Eat-hunting was 

 a favourite sport of these strange allies, and it was said by those who witnessed their 

 proceedings, that the Eaven was even more useful than a ferret would have been. 



Another and a very amusing anecdote of the Eaven and its cunning is related by 

 Captain McClure, the well-known Arctic voyager. Speaking of the behaviour of various 

 birds and beasts during the winter, he remarks that the Eaven is the hardiest of the 

 feathered tribe, and even in the depths of winter, when wine freezes within a yard of the 

 fire, the Eaven may be seen winging his way through the icy atmosphere and uttering 

 his strange rough, croaking cry, as unconcernedly as if the weather were soft and warm 

 as an English spring. " Two Eavens," he observes, " once established themselves as 

 friends of the family in Mercer Bay, living mainly by what little scraps the men might 

 have thrown away after meal times. 



