Conspicuously Black 



until we have had an opportunity to compare its hoarse, cracked 

 voice with the other bird's familiar call. 



From the farmer's point of view, there is still another dis- 

 tinction: the fish crow lets his crops alone. It contents itself 

 with picking up refuse on the shores of the sea or rivers not far 

 inland; haunting the neighborhood of fishermen's huts for the 

 small fish discarded when the seines are drawn, and treading out 

 with its toes the shell-fish hidden in the sand at low tide. When 

 we see it in the fields it is usually intent upon catching field- 

 mice, grubs, and worms, with which it often varies its fish diet. It 

 is, however, the worst nest robber we have ; it probably destroys 

 ten times as many eggs and young birds as its larger cousin. 



The fishermen have a tradition that this southern crow 

 comes and goes with the shad and herring— a saw which science 

 unkindly disapproves. 



American Raven 



(Corvus cor ax principalis) Crow family 



Called also: NORTHERN RAVEN 



Length — 26 to 27 inches. Nearly three times as large as a robin. 

 Male and Female — Glossy black above, with purplish and greenish 



reflections. Duller underneath. Feathers of the throat and 



breast long and loose, like fringe. 

 Range — North America, from polar regions to Mexico. Rare 



along Atlantic coast and in the south. Common in the 



west, and very abundant in the northwest. 

 Migrations — An erratic wanderer, usually resident where it finds 



its way. 



The weird, uncanny voice of this great bird that soars in 

 wide circles above the evergreen trees of dark northern forests 

 seems to come out of the skies like the malediction of an evil 

 spirit. Without uttering the words of any language — Poe's 

 "Nevermore" was, of course, a poetic license — people of all 

 nationalities appear to understand that some dire calamity, some 

 wicked portent, is being announced every time the unbirdlike 

 creature utters its rasping call. The superstitious folk crow with 

 an "I told you so," as they solemnly wag their heads when they 

 hear of some death in the village after "the bird of ill-omen" has 



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