CROW. 
173 
is considered as an outlaw, and sentenced to destruction. But 
the great difficulty is, how to put this sentence in execution. 
In vain the gunner skulks along the hedges and fences; his faith- 
ful centinels, planted on some commanding point, raise the alarm, 
and disappoint vengeance of its object. The coast again clear, 
he returns once more in silence to finish the repast he had be- 
gun. Sometimes he approaches the farm-house by stealth, in 
search of young chickens, which he is in the habit of snatching 
oflT, when he can elude the vigilance of the mother hen, who 
often proves too formidable for him. A few days ago a Crow 
was observed eagerly attempting to seize some young chickens 
in an orchard, near the room where I write; but these cluster- 
ing close round the hen, she resolutely defended them, drove 
the Crow, into an apple-tree, whither she instantly pursued him 
with such spirit and intrepidity, that he was glad to make a 
speedy retreat, and abandon his design. 
The Crow himself sometimes falls a prey to the superior 
strength and rapacity of the Great Owl, whose weapons of of- 
fence are by far the more formidable of the two.* 
* “A few years ag-o,” says an obliging" correspondent, “ I resided on the 
banks of the Hudson, about seven miles from the city of New York. Not far 
from the place of my residence was a pretty thick wood or swamp, in which, 
great numbers of Crows, who used to cross the river from the opposite shore, 
were accustomed to roost. Returning homeward one afternoon from a shoot- 
ing excursion, I had occasion to pass through this swamp. It was near sunset, 
and troops of Crows were fl3dng in all directions over my head. While en- 
gaged in observing their flight, and endeavouring to select from among them 
an object to shoot at, my ears were suddenly assailed by the distressful cries of 
a Crow, who was evidently struggling under the talons of a merciless and rapa- 
cious enemy. I hastened to the spot whence the sounds proceeded, and to my 
great surprise, found a Crow lying on the ground, just expiring, and seated 
upon the body of the yet warm and bleeding quarry, a large brown Owl,who was 
beginning to make a meal of the unfortunate robber of corn-flelds. Perceiving 
my approach, he forsook his prey with evident reluctance, and flew into a tree 
at a little distance, where he sat watching all my movements, alternately re- 
garding, with longing eyes, the victim he had been forced to leave, and darting 
at me no very friendly looks, that seemed to reproach me for having deprived 
