COL. DUTHIE ON A MOUNTAIN BREEDING-HAUNT OF THE RAVEN. 19 
sometimes the crash of a large icicle, which, loosened from its hold 
by the heat of the sun, came tumbling down from the rocks above, 
and fell in a crystal shower at our feet. 
It was a favourable day for observing the strange aerial perfor¬ 
mances of the Ravens, who seemed to revel in the clearness of the 
atmosphere, as we did ourselves. We sat and watched their grand 
and majestic flight as, sweeping in large circles, they soared higher 
and higher till they became mere specks in the blue of the sky. 
After gliding for a long distance with wings apparently motionless, 
they would suddenly drop like falling leaves to a lower level, some¬ 
times turning complete somersaults in their descent; and, continuing 
their evolutions, they frequently uttered their sharp double note, so 
like the bark of a dog that the voice of a collie in a distant sheep- 
farm seemed but the echo of the Raven’s cry. 
The nest is placed on a ledge within a deep cavity in the face of 
the precipitous crags, well sheltered from above by its natural over- 
► 
hanging roof. It is a large structure, composed of heather stems and 
alder branches, some of which are bleached by time and weather. 
It is repaired every year, and newly lined with fur, wool, and moss, 
neatly rounded off and smoothened over the rim. This deep warm 
basin is well adapted to resist the rough weather to which these early 
breeders are so often exposed, for by the end of February or in early 
March the eggs are laid. During the period of incubation, which 
lasts about three weeks, many a bitter blast beats against the Ravens’ 
home, driving the snow and sleet into every crevice of their rocky 
stronghold, and thick mists settle on the mountains, wrapping them 
for many days together in a shroud of impenetrable gloom; but the 
old bird sits on, regardless of cold and storm, impelled by Nature 
to brood thus early in order that her young may be produced at a 
time when their food is most abundant. 
The young birds remain a long time in the nest before they are 
able to fly; this may possibly be owing to the fact that the Raven’s 
egg is very small in proportion to the size of the bird. It is a pretty 
sight to see their first lessons in flight, and to watch the care and 
anxiety of their parents as they hover near them with steady beat of 
their wings, sometimes floating below them as if to encourage them 
in their feeble efforts. 
The old birds are very quick to resent any intrusion near their 
nest, especially after the eggs are hatched. It is no uncommon sight 
to see the fierce Peregrine driven off by a Raven, and many a boy, 
when robbing a Raven’s nest of its young, has been astonished and 
alarmed to find how unpleasantly near to his face the infuriated old 
bird will come in defence of her brood. 
No birds are more attached to their breeding haunts than the 
