The Common Crow . 
3 
nary gatherings, as Grodman observes, seem to have a definite object—either 
for toilet or gastronomic, purposes—a time, also, if we may judge by their 
clamour, of general conversation, some rejoicing, some repining, in their 
varied experience of the last twelve hours. 
“ The aerial evolutions of this descending multitude, coupled with the 
surging clamour of those which have already settled as successive re-enforce¬ 
ments appear, and which at a distance greatly resemble the far-away roar of 
the sea, may justly awaken emotions of sublimity in the spectator. To 
descend almost perpendicularly from a height of 1,000 feet above earth to 
the very tree tops and then to glide above them on half-closed wings with a 
resultant momentum that is almost startling in its arrowy velocity, is a 
favourite manoeuvre and when two such playfellows pursue each other in 
this headlong swoop their turnings and twistings and doubling contortions 
amaze the beholder. * * * Until sunset this novel scene continues 
without interruption, whilst field and forest in the vicinity of their great 
dormitories are shrouded by the thousands which have alighted ; and were it 
not for the deafening clamour, the living pall which overspreads the scene 
might w r ell suggest a land of mourning and death. When they settle on 
the ground on such occasions they resemble gulls on a sand-bar, each 
standing motionless with its head toward the breeze. The whole thing 
seems unnecessary, as they mostly do nothing but cry out to their com¬ 
panions in the air and tumultuously applaud their hairbreadth escapes and 
feats of daring, yet sitting quietly until the setting sun warns them to make 
ready for the last act—going to bed. 
“ If we understood crow language, perhaps we could now recognise a 
distinct signal from some grand master of their assembly, summoning all to 
repose. 
“ Be this as it may, a similar impulse now seizes the throng and the air 
fairly darkens as successive companies take wing and in silence betake them¬ 
selves to the roost, flying low as if to avoid observation. Many crows in 
approaching the place of preliminary gathering necessarily fly over the 
roost, but not a bird enters it until the general movement begins after 
sunset. The self-imposed discipline and obedience of such an army puts to 
shame the strictest military code. Think now of a miserable, weary crow,, 
which, having winged his way thither a distance of 20 miles, arrives about 
sunset at the roost; but the ingathering not having yet begun, witness how 
like a true soldier he flaps on to join his more punctual brethren who have 
settled half a mile farther oft to gossip and plume themselves before 
retiring. 
“ On one occasion I observed large companies arriving in the roost near 
Merchantville, at a time of full moon, for nearly an hour after sunset. 
Between the intervals of arrival all would become quiet in their bed¬ 
chambers, but as a more belated company drew near, their cries were 
responded to by the roosting crows in a different tone. The fliers would 
hurriedly ejaculate c yur, yur, yur,’ # # * giving each utterance a rising 
inflection, as if inquiring anxiously of their whereabouts, while those in the 
roost answered in a falling, drawling tone by slowly repeating their usual 
‘ caw’ and lengthening it to ‘ ca-aw,’ ‘ ca-aw,’ ‘ ca-aw,’ as if to assure their 
friends they were resting comfortably. * # * 
“ The programme of dispersion from the roost in the morning to their 
feeding grounds is as follows :— 
“ After an hour’s babel (for such verily is the seeming confusion of tongues) 
a few crowds essay to take leave, but as soon as this folly is observed it 
literally ‘brings down the house,’ and when one imagines the simultaneous 
