A Raven's Nest 197 



as the Osprey, though there were intervals of flapping in his flight, while the 

 Osprey flapped little, if at all. After the Fish Hawk had departed, two Crows 

 appeared and pestered the Raven for a while by swooping at him. The difference 

 in size between the two species of Corvus was very apparent. 



While I was watching this bird, the two young came quite near me, one 

 alighting on the rocks not far from where I sat concealed behind a young spruce, 

 and the other settling in the tops of the woods behind me. The bird on the 

 rock walked awkwardly and once gave a hop. Before long he also rose and flew 

 to the trees. A short search disclosed first one and then the other. The second, 

 when I came upon it, was sitting only five yards from me on a spruce stub. It 

 soon flew to the top of a tree near by, and then I had both birds under my eve, 

 near each other and near me. They impressed me as being very considerably 

 larger than Crows, and, as before, seemed to be fully fledged, though they showed 

 the yellow chaps characteristic of young birds. They acted like young puppies, 

 moving their heads about aimlessly, and they frequently pecked at the dead 

 twigs of the spruces upon which they perched, or took a mouthful of usnea, 

 which, I think, was always soon discarded. Once, one of the old birds croaked 

 not very far away, whereupon the restless young immediately became quiet, 

 but after a time they began to move again, though not so freely as before. I 

 waited, hoping that the parents would approach, but they were very wary, and 

 I finally had to give it up. The young were absolutely silent, as when I found 

 them at the nest. 



There is something romantic and inspiring about the very name of "raven," 

 and a Raven's nest, especially one built in a more or less inaccessible situation 

 on the side of a cliff looking out over the open sea, seemed a particularly inter- 

 esting discovery, — more so, indeed, than the nest of some rarer but less famous 

 bird would have seemed. So the Duck Hawk, though a fine bird in itself, and 

 rare enough to make the first meeting with it an event in a bird-lover's life, 

 becomes still more interesting when we call it a Peregrine Falcon. With these 

 sentiments as to the poetic value of a visit to the Raven's nest, I was somewhat 

 taken aback when it came out that one of the small party which accompanied 

 me at the time when the pictures were taken, a lady of literary attainments — a 

 well-known author in fact — thought she had been to see a Crow's nest, and that 

 a Raven was the same thing as a Crow! For her the name of ''raven" had none 

 of the associations which had made its peculiar charm for me. I am bound to 

 say, nevertheless, that even in the depth of her ornithological ignorance she 

 appeared to enjoy the mildly adventurous element of the excursion, and to ap- 

 preciate the rugged beauties of the scene about the Ravens' home. 



