198 THE BROOK BOOK 



turn, and wondered if he had had any special errand 

 up there. I was about concluding that the ways of 

 crows were past finding out, when my eye caught 

 sight of a small object lying on the snow near the 

 place where the crow had stood still. It was a 

 bit of woven silk about half an inch across, and 

 round. It looked like part of some cocoon, and I 

 mentally accused the crow of insect-hunting. But 

 where's the rest of this cocoon? He would not 

 care to eat anything so tough. It was not hard 

 to find. From a crevice in the snow no bigger 

 than the crow's bill, I fished out the rest of the 

 cocoon and identified it as the egg-sac of an orb- 

 weaving spider. I fitted the pieces together and 

 convicted the crow without further evidence. Not 

 an egg remained in the sac. A few, just to make 

 me certain, clung to a stray thread of silk, but 

 the sac was empty. 



"Now where did you find that sac of eggs, 

 friend crow?" I inquired. "Is your eye so trained 

 that you see such dainties on every bush, or does 

 your instinct guide you? If it's instinct, then I'd 

 recommend the spider to get an instinct which 

 teaches her how to hide her cocoon more safely. 

 I've a notion to play Sherlock Holmes and see if 

 I can find you out." 



I examined the hole in which the larger part 

 of the cocoon was found, and made up my mind 

 that it was made by the crow in tearing open the 

 sac. I believe he found the eggs where the spider 

 left them and carried his prize package ol¥ to rifle 

 it alone. 



