Crow - Ways. 115 



is a crevice in the rocks under moss and ferns ; some- 

 times the splintered end of a broken branch ; some- 

 times a 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 re- 

 vealed the leader. There he was, stealing along in 

 the shadow, trying to reach the goal before they saw 

 him. A derisive haza announced his discovery. Then 

 the fun began again, as noisy, as confusing, as thor- 

 oughly enjoyable as ever. 



When the bright object dropped this time, curiosity 

 to get possession of it was stronger than my interest 

 in the game. Besides, the apples w'ere waiting. I 

 jumped up, scattering the crows in wild confusion; 

 but as they streamed' away I fancied that there was 

 still more of the excitement of play than of alarm in 

 their flight and clamor. 



The bright object which the leader carried proved 



