where he hides every bright thing he finds. 

 Sometimes it is a crevice in the rocks under 

 moss and ferns ; sometimes the splintered 

 ^ end of a broken branch ; sometimes a 



v>roW' y deserted owl's nest in a hollow tree ; often a 

 crotch in a big pine, covered carefully by 

 brown needles ; but wherever it is, it is full 

 of bright things — glass, and china, and 

 beads, and tin, and an old spoon, and a 

 silvered buckle — and nobody but the crow 

 himself knows how to find it. Did some 

 crow fetch his best trinket for the occasion, 

 or was this a special thing for games, and 

 kept by the flock where any crow could 

 get it? 



These were some of the interesting things 

 that were puzzling the watcher when he 

 noticed that the hickory was empty. A 

 flash over against the dark green revealed 

 the leader. There he was, stealing along in 

 the shadow, trying to reach the goal before 

 they saw him. A derisive haw ! announced 

 his discovery. Then the fun began again, 

 as noisy, as confusing, as enjoyable as 

 ever. 



