122 EIVERBY 



it does, but I look upon it rather as that instinct of 

 fear and cunning so characteristic of the crow. Two 

 days passed thus: every morning the crows came 

 and surveyed the suspended meat from all points 

 in the tree, and then went away. The third day 

 I placed a large hone on the snow beneath the sus- 

 pended morsel. Presently one of the crows appeared 

 in the tree, and bent his eye upon the tempting 

 bone. "The mystery deepens," he seemed to say 

 to himself. But after half an hour's investigation, 

 and after approaching several times within a few 

 feet of the food upon the ground, he seemed to 

 conclude there was no connection between it and the 

 piece hanging by the string. So he finally walked 

 up to it and fell to pecking it, flickering his wings 

 all the time, as a sign of his watchfulness. He also 

 turned up his eye, momentarily, to the piece in the 

 air above, as if it might be some disguised sword of 

 Damocles ready to fall upon him. Soon his mate 

 came and alighted on a low branch of the tree. The 

 feeding crow regarded him a moment, and then 

 flew up to his side, as if to give him a turn at the 

 meat. But he refused to run the risk. He evidently 

 looked upon the whole thing as a delusion and a 

 snare, and presently went away, and his mate fol- 

 lowed him. Then I placed the bone in one of the 

 main forks of the tree, but the crows kept at a safe 

 distance from it. Then I put it back to the ground, 

 but they grew more and more suspicious; some evil 

 intent in it all, they thought. Finally a dog carried 

 off the bone, and the crows ceased to visit the tree. 



