plains, its hoarse cry may be heard; as well as on the lonely island, whose shores are lashed by the foaming waves of the mighty ocean, and seldom or ever visited by the prow of the merchant or other vessel.

A bold familiar bird is the Raven, with jet black plumes, and a large powerful bill, fitted for tearing to pieces the flesh of animals on which it often feeds; and a deep hollow voice, that grates harshly upon the ear; and strong feet armed with sharp talons; and wings that spread out to a great extent, and with regular and well-timed beats, flap, flap, flap, winnow the air, and support the bird in its long flight over land and sea; while the broad tail, now elevated and now depressed, now turned this way and now that, gives to the heavy body the desired direction. "Croak!" one hears the sound, and scarcely knows whether it comes from the air above or the earth beneath; but presently the sunshine is obscured by a black shadow, and swoop! down comes the bird of ill omen, as people have generally agreed to consider it, down upon the sick sheep, or any other weak and defenceless creature, that may be within the compass of its keen sight, and commences picking out the eyes of the animal, reminding us of the punishment threatened by the Lord against disobedient children, as mentioned in Proverbs, and paraphrased in Dr. Watts' familiar lines:—

Then again, as we see the strong-winged bird sweep far away over the wide sea, we think of the time when the waters covered the face of the whole earth, and "Noah sent forth a Raven, which went to and fro until the waters were dried up." Or, if in some scene of wild sublimity, some valley hemmed in by lofty mountains, through which a stream goes winding silently, we are startled by that black shadow and harsh grating note, we fancy ourselves by the brook Chereth, where the Ravens brought bread and flesh, morning and evening, to the prophet Elisha, being commanded to do so by God, who, as we are told in Job, "provideth for the Raven his food;" and in Psalms, "heareth the young Ravens which cry."

In nearly all parts of Great Britain these birds are found, they were formerly more abundant than they are at present, gamekeepers and others having long waged war against them, on account of their real or supposed propensity to destroy the young hares, partridges, pheasants, etc.

In the northern and western parts of Scotland, and in some of the Scottish Isles they are numerous. They make large nests composed of sticks, cemented together with mud, and lined with roots, wool, fur, and such other soft materials as come most readily to hand, or we should rather say, to beak and claw; they are said sometimes to rob the sheep's backs. Their building-places are cliffs and precipices, church towers, caves and rocky fissures, and the clefts between the forked branches of tall trees. The eggs are from four to six in number, of a pale olive green, more or less blotched and spotted with greenish brown and grey. They are early builders, sometimes commencing in January; the eggs, says Mr. Morris, have been taken in the middle of February. Incubation lasts twenty days; both male and female sit on the eggs, in defence of which and their young, they will fight desperately, driving off the hawks, and even eagles and vultures.

The Raven is known to live to a great age, often when in a domesticated state, seeing out two or three generations of a family; it is one of those birds which possess the power of imitating the human voice, and many anecdotes are told of its proficiency in this respect. It is a very sagacious bird, indeed so cunning that it has been thought by ignorant persons, to know more than it ought, and to be in league with witches and other "uncanny" people. Constantly do we find its cry alluded to by both ancient and modern poets, as ominous of death.

CARRION CROW.
GOR. GORE, OR FLESH CROW. BLACK NEB. HOODY BRAN.
FIGURE 5.

Everybody knows the Common Crow that goes caw-cawing over the fields through the long summer day, and hunts in the freshly-turned furrows for grubs and wire-worms, and settles down upon the marshes where the white flocks are feeding, dotting them here and there with great black spots, as though some literary giant had taken too much ink in his pen, and scattered it out over the landscape before he began to write. Oh yes, everybody knows the familiar Crow, called by scientific people Corvus corone, Latin and Greek again for the same thing—a Crow! Black and all black is he, a kind of Raven in miniature, closely resembling that bird in his habits as well as appearance. A foul feeder, delighting in putrid carcasses, and all kinds of meat that is not merely a "little touched," but "very far gone" indeed. The shepherd does not like him, neither does the gamekeeper, neither does the farmer, although we are inclined to think that the dislike of the latter is owing to an unfounded prejudice; true it is that our friend Corvus does sometimes eat grain, but he prefers animal food, and oftener feeds on worms and other grain-destroyers. If you wish to find his nest, you must climb into the tall elm tree, or far up the face of the chalky cliff; it is made of sticks, cemented together with clay, and lined with roots, straw, wool, moss, or any soft substance which can be had. If in a tree, it is usually placed among the topmost branches, or else on a bough near to the trunk, so as to be well sheltered and hidden from view. The eggs, from four to six in number, are of a pale bluish green or grey, speckled, some very thickly, with light brown and deep grey.

The Crows, like the Ravens, pair for life; the work of building is shared by both birds, and generally commences about the end of February, or beginning of March. There is a variety of this species which is almost wholly white, and this is the case also with the Raven. Harrison Ainsworth has written a spirited song on the Carrion Crow, of which this is the first verse:—