AMERICAN CROW 231 



were spring. Ah, bless the Lord, O my soul! bless him 

 for wildness, for crows that will not alight within gun- 

 shot ! and bless him for hens, too, that croak and cackle 

 in the yard ! 



May 5, 1855. Looking over my book, I found I had 

 done my errands, and said to myself I would find a 

 crow's nest. (I had heard a crow scold at a passing hawk 

 a quarter of an hour before.) I had hardly taken this 

 resolution when, looking up, I saw a crow wending his 

 way across an interval in the woods towards the highest 

 pines in the swamp, on which he alighted. I directed my 

 steps to them and was soon greeted with an angry caw, 

 and, within five minutes from my resolve, I detected a 

 new nest close to the top of the tallest white pine in the 

 swamp. A crow circled cawing about it within gunshot, 

 then over me surveying, and, perching on an oak directly 

 over my head within thirty-five feet, cawed angrily. 

 But suddenly, as if having taken a new resolution, it 

 flitted away, and was joined by its mate and two more, 

 and they went off silently a quarter of a mile or more 

 and lit in a pasture, as if they had nothing to concern 

 them in the wood. 



May 7, 1855. Climbed to two crows' nests, — or maybe 

 one of them a squirrel's, — in Hubbard's Grove. Do 

 they not sometimes use a squirrel's nest for a founda- 

 tion ? A ruby-crested wren is apparently attracted and 

 eyes me. It is wrenching and fatiguing, as well as dirty, 

 work to climb a tall pine with nothing, or maybe only 

 dead twigs and stubs, to hold by. You must proceed 

 with great deliberation and see well where you put your 

 hands and your feet. 



