1892
Oct. 8
(No 2)
Concord, Massachusetts.
Mass.
Concord. Holden's meadow was alive with Crows
walking about feeding. I counted fifty. They reminded
me of the Rooks in England. Every little while
a few would rise and start off southward cawing
loudly as if calling on the others to follow but
all such attempts failed to start the main host
to which these adventurous pioneers invariably
returned. One of them, however, succeeded at length
in raising great excitement by discovering an
Owl (doubtless the same Bubo which I have seen there
before this autumn) in Holden's woods and
shouting the news in Crow language to the
feeding birds, "An Owl! an Owl! Wake up you
sleepy, murderous, yellow-eyed villain, you mulc-
eared knave! Come on, friends, and help me
drive this thief from his stronghold! Let us
pluck out his cat ears and gouge out his
big eyes and pummel & peck him to death!"
All this and much more to the same purpose,
if I understood the Crow rightly. He did
not call in vain for in a twinkling the sable
horde left their repast and came trooping
to the woods where they clustered all over
the tops of the trees and shouted &
swore as long as I was within hearing.
[margin]Crows[/margin]
  There was a Great Blue Heron on the rise this
morning, a noble bird but in the young plumage.
I started him first from Wild Rice Island & drove
him before me to the Holt where he doubled back.
Once he alighted on the top of the bank where
[margin]Great Blue Heron[/margin]