BIRDS—THEIR MIGRATIONS AND SOJOURNINGS. 
237 
greatest zest and cheerfulness; and though I 
fired several times into the tree, and once so 
near that one was stunned by the wadding, they 
were always back again and ready for another 
shot. Of course not a berry was left on the 
tree or under it. 
Birds do not remain long when thus assem¬ 
bling together. In fact, they are already on 
their journey, most of the flock being made up 
of those which have passed the summer a little 
farther north. 
They move southward by short flights and de¬ 
layed journeys, lingering perhaps for days about 
secluded grain fields, their numbers constantly 
increasing by fresh accessions. Sometimes these 
flocks, as those of the blackbird, become very 
large, numbering thousands, even at this point 
of their journey, and alight on sowed fields, scat¬ 
tering over a large space, every bird in eager 
motion, those in the rear constantly flying over 
the heads of those in front, moving in this man¬ 
ner that all may have an equal chance for in¬ 
sects and grain. The wild pigeons feed in this 
manner, hunting for beech-nuts in the woods, 
or snails on the barrens and flats, producing a 
steady roar that fills the forest. In the morn¬ 
ing not a redbreast will be in the flock; in the 
afternoon it will be composed entirely of male 
birds. During migrations familiar species ap¬ 
pear in much greater numbers, and also a few 
new or rare ones, which breed farther north, and 
are seen only at this time. 
About the last of August you may observe 
the colonies of swallows much enlarged by ar¬ 
rivals of their northern cousins, the whole com¬ 
pany evidently preparing for a journey without 
impedimenta, and as full of life and loquacity 
as a company of speculators inventing an oil 
city. Thus it will be in the morning, in the 
evening not a swallow can be seen. This dis¬ 
position to aggregate, and also to change haunts, 
is seen also in our resident birds. The quail 
and partridge pass the winter in small flocks, 
and crows, which now, as in Homer’s day, may 
be called “lone flyers,” will desert some sec¬ 
tions during the winter months and collect in 
other favorite localities in great numbers. They 
•would be numerous in the valleys of the Passaic, 
Naugatuck, and Mohawk rivers during the sum¬ 
mer, but in winter scarce one could be seen, 
while in the valley of the Hudson their num¬ 
bers would be increased fourfold. The great 
number of these birds during winter is one pe¬ 
culiar feature of this valley, and whoever sketch¬ 
es a winter twilight along the Hudson must not 
leave out * 
“ The blackening trains o’ crows to their repose.” 
Toward evening they begin to pass to their 
roosting-places, flying from one wooded hill-top 
to another in long straggling lines, which are con¬ 
stantly filling up as they proceed. They roost 
in the pines which grow on the steep hill-sides 
of the western bank, and on the trees of low 
islands, difficult of access from their surround¬ 
ings of deep mud and shallow water; and in 
the morning they will be returning in the same 
manner, flying very high if the morning be quiet 
and cloudy, -but scudding along under shelter 
of fences and forests if the wind be high and 
cold. Every corn-field entices deserters until 
all are scattered over the wide country during 
the day. Sometimes along the Naugatuck, 
where a tall hill thrusts up its head into the re¬ 
gion of pines, the crows would find a resting- 
place until late autumn,' but when winter set in 
they always deserted the wind-swept peaks. But 
along the Hudson they found better picking in 
the finely-cultivated corn-fields of the eastern 
valley, and, what is probably more rare, secure 
roosting-places. 
The crow makes no regular migration south¬ 
ward, but stays with us and takes the chances— 
sorry chances though they may appear to one 
looking over a winter landscape. It would 
seem a wonder that he should subsist; but the 
same problem is presented in the case of the 
wolf and vulture, and indeed, at times, of most 
of the birds and beasts of prey. They all suffer 
much from hunger, if a natural condition may 
he termed suffering, or if their necessary sup¬ 
plies were any thing more than a small part of 
what they would consume. “ Half a pound of 
animal food daily” has been given as a neces¬ 
sary supply for the crow ; but the weight of the 
bird is only about one pound, and the quantity 
given is an ordinary weekly supply during a 
season of scarcity. It is certain that he has 
“neither storehouse nor barn”—the Bible be¬ 
ing more correct on this point than some mod¬ 
ern authority. There is no food that he can 
lay up, and no place where he can store it. If 
on the earth the snow which covers the ground 
would cover his supplies, if any where about 
the trees something of the kind would be found, 
but no indications of such are ever discovered. 
Moreover he changes his residence, as we have 
seen, which would render such supplies useless. 
When the cold is extreme, and the whole sur¬ 
face, even the points of the hills, are covered with 
snow frqshly fallen, and not yet blown away 
from any spot, the crow is often pinched with 
hunger, and shows that he too, 
“For all his feathers, is a-cold.” 
At such times the sable fellows will resort to 
the barn-yard even ; and they may be seen 
perched on the stakes about the stalk-stacks 
the very picture of shivering, expectant hunger, 
waiting for the morning foddering to be thrown 
to the cattle in the hope of a nubbin which the 
boys had overlooked in husking, or the hut of 
an ear which their wrists were too weak to break. 
Farmers’ boys sometimes kill two dozen with a 
single barrel, and nail them up conspicuously 
against the side of the barn, as an Indian would 
exhibit his scalps at the door of his wigwam. 
The crow, like other carrion birds, has a strong 
beak but weak claws. He never seizes or car¬ 
ries any thing whatever with the latter, and never 
catches any thing more nimble than snakes or 
frogs, which he flays in the most bungling and 
unscientific manner, very unlike the skillful man¬ 
agement of the hawk family. The hawk holds 
