others. In fact, the crow is a courtly,
fine-mannered bird. Birds of prey will rend one another over their
food; even buzzards will make some show of mauling one another with
their wings; but I have yet to see anything of the kind with that
gentle freebooter, the crow. Yet suspicion is his dominant trait.
Anything that looks like design puts him on his guard. The simplest
device in a cornfield usually suffices to keep him away. He suspects a
trap. His wit is not deep, but it is quick, and ever on the alert.

One of our natural history romancers makes the crows flock in June.
But the truth is, they do not flock till September. Through the summer
the different families keep pretty well together. You may see the old
ones with their young foraging about the fields, the young often being
fed by their parents.

From my boyhood I have seen the yearly meeting of the crows in
September or October, on a high grassy hill or a wooded ridge.
Apparently, all the crows from a large area assemble at these times;
you may see them coming, singly or in loose bands, from all directions
to the rendezvous, till there are hundreds of them together. They make
black an acre or two of ground. At intervals they all rise in the air,
and wheel about, all cawing at once. Then to the ground again, or to
the tree-tops, as the case may be; then, rising again, they send forth
the voice of the multitude. What does it all mean? I notice that this
rally is always preliminary to their going into winter quarters. It
would be interesting to know just the nature of the communication that
takes place between them. Not long afterwards, or early in October,
they may be seen morning and evening going to and from their
rookeries. The matter seems to be settled in these September
gatherings of the clan. Was the spot agreed upon beforehand and notice
served upon all the members of the tribe? Our "school-of-the-woods"
professors would probably infer something of the kind. I suspect it is
all brought about as naturally as any other aggregation of animals. A
few crows meet on the hill; they attract others and still others. The
rising of a body of them in the air, the circling and cawing, may be
an instinctive act to advertise the meeting to all the crows within
sight or hearing. At any rate, it has this effect, and they come
hurrying from all points.

What their various calls mean, who shall tell? That lusty _caw-aw,
caw-aw_ that one hears in spring and summer, like