GENERAL JIM 167 
had gone. With it had gone the hosts of the 
minute men, dispersed ‘back to their homes. Jim 
led his family down to the fields in security once 
more, but he puffed his feathers a bit, and made 
his morning caws a bit more energetic and strid- 
ent than usual. He felt he’d done a pretty good 
job, and acted as a real leader should. He was 
rather inclined to think he ought to be listened to 
respectfully by the other crows after this! 
When autumn came a slight difference of opin- 
ion developed in the domestic circle. Mrs. Jim, 
who had spent the first (and only) winter of her 
life south, was all for migrating. Jim, who knew 
no other home than this Berkshire mountainside 
and the valley below, and who loved it, was strong 
for staying right there, in spite of his memories of 
the great blizzard. But you know how such dis- 
putes are usually settled. They went south. 
They rose into the air one chill November day, 
followed by several of the other crows of their 
neighborhood, and joined a flight going by over- 
head. 
That evening Jim saw the ocean for the first 
time—at least, he saw Long Island Sound, and 
