The Audubon Reader (17 page)

The
flight of the American Crow is swift, protracted and at times performed at a great elevation. They are now and then seen to sail among the
Turkey Buzzards or
Carrion Crows in company with their relatives the
Fish Crows, none of the other birds, however, shewing the least antipathy towards them, although the
Vultures manifest dislike whenever a
White-headed
Eagle comes among them.

In the latter part of autumn and in winter in the Southern States this Crow is particularly fond of frequenting burnt grounds. Even while the fire is raging in one part of the fields, the woods or the prairies, where tall grass abounds the Crows are seen in great numbers in the other, picking up and devouring the remains of mice and other small quadrupeds as well as lizards, snakes and insects which have been partly destroyed by the flames. At the same season they retire in immense numbers to roost by the margins of ponds, lakes and rivers covered with a luxuriant growth of rank weeds or cattails. They may be seen proceeding to such places more than an hour before sunset in long straggling line and in silence, and are joined by the
Grackles,
Starlings and
Reed Birds, while the Fish Crows retire from the very same parts to the interior of the woods many miles distant from any shores.

No sooner has the horizon brightened at the approach of day than the Crows sound a reveille, and then with mellowed notes, as it were, engage in a general thanksgiving for the peaceful repose they have enjoyed. After this they emit their usual barking notes as if consulting each other respecting the course they ought to follow. Then parties in succession fly off to pursue their avocations and relieve the reeds from the weight that bent them down.

The Crow is extremely courageous in encountering any of its winged enemies. Several individuals may frequently be seen pursuing a
Hawk or an Eagle with remarkable vigor, although I never saw or heard of one pouncing on any bird for the purpose of preying on it. They now and then tease the Vultures when those foul birds are alighted on trees with their wings spread out, but they soon desist, for the Vultures pay no attention to them.

The most remarkable feat of the Crow is the nicety with which it, like the
Jay, pierces an egg with its bill in order to carry it off and eat it with security. In this manner I have seen it steal, one after another, all the eggs of a Wild Turkey’s nest. You will perceive, reader, that I endeavor to speak of the Crow with all due impartiality, not wishing by any means to conceal its faults nor withholding my testimony to its merits, which are such as I can well assure the farmer that were it not for its race, thousands of cornstalks would every year fall prostrate, in consequence of being cut over close to the ground by the destructive grubs which are called “cutworms.”

I never saw a pet Crow in the United States and therefore cannot say with how much accuracy they may imitate the human voice or indeed if they possess the power of imitating it at all, which I very much doubt, as in their natural state they never evince any talents for mimicry. I cannot say if it possess the thieving propensities attributed by authors to the
European Crow.

Its
gait while on the ground is elevated and graceful, its ordinary mode of progression being a sedate walk, although it occasionally hops when under excitement. It not unfrequently alights on the backs of cattle to pick out the worms lurking in their skin, in the same manner as the
Magpie,
Fish Crow and
Cowbird. Its note or cry may be imitated by the syllables
caw, caw, caw
, being different from the cry of the European Carrion Crow and resembling the distant bark of a small dog.

At Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania I saw a pair of Crows perfectly white, in the possession of Mr. Lambdin, the owner of the museum there, who assured me that five which were found in the nest were of the same color.

[On Plate 156 of
The Birds of America
] I have placed the pensive oppressed Crow of our country on a beautiful branch of the Black Walnut tree loaded with nuts, on the lower twig of which I have represented the delicate nest of our Common Hummingbird …

In conclusion, I would again address our farmers and tell them that if they persist in killing Crows, the best season for doing so is when their corn begins to ripen.

The Black Walnut

The Black Walnut of the United States is generally a tree of beautiful form and often, especially in the Western and Southern States, attains a great size. Wherever it is found you may calculate on the land being of good quality; the wood is very firm, of a dark brown tint, veined and extremely useful for domestic purposes, many articles of furniture being made of it. It is also employed in shipbuilding. When used for posts or fence rails it resists the action of the weather for many years. The nuts are gathered late in autumn and although rather too oily, are eaten and considered good by many persons. The husking of them is however a disagreeable task, as their covering almost indelibly stains every object with which it comes in contact.

[The American Crow,
Corvus brachyrhynchos
, appears in Plate 156 of
The Birds of America
, perched on a branch of a Black Walnut tree.]

Greensboro, Alabama
28 September 1842

Dear Sir,

In examining your history of the “American Crow”—recently published—I noticed that you express yourself as never having seen “a pet crow in the United States and therefore (you add) cannot say with how much accuracy they may imitate the human voice or indeed if they possess the power of imitating it at all,
which I very much doubt
, as in their natural state they never evince any talents for mimicry. I cannot say (you continue) if it possess the
thieving propensities
attributed by authors to the European Crow.”

Not doubting that any interesting facts in relation to natural history in general & particularly that branch of it embracing the “feathered tribe” would meet with your kind attention even though those facts might not exactly accord with the opinions you may have formed—I have concluded to submit to your notice some particulars concerning a bird of the species alluded to. Being a stranger to you, your credence will of course be based upon the credibility of the statements themselves—& though they may wear very much the appearance of a “fish story”—I could give you, independent of my own declaration, the testimony of a score of individuals who, for veracity, stand “above suspicion.”

The bird I have reference to was caught some twenty years ago in Orange County, North Carolina, by one of my brothers, & presented to a sister for a pet. It was barely fledged when taken. Getting a leg broken shortly after its capture & having one of its wings cropped to prevent its escape—the field of its exercises was restricted to the yard—& indeed in a great measure to the kitchen where it soon became intimate with its sable occupants—perhaps from similarity of color.

In the midst of its garrulous companions it was merely a
listener
for some months. It at length manifested a disposition to imitate some of the common household names—at first monosyllables. “Buck,” for instance, the son of Fan the old cook, who was on his mother’s tongue almost constantly—he [i.e., the crow] tried his “prentice hand” upon—& succeeding to the astonishment of all in this effort, & apparently greatly to his own gratification—he ventured upon disyllables—“Martin”—next the connection of words—as “Mas’ Carter”—& finally upon connected & intelligible sentences. The superstitious fears of the old cook being greatly excited by the loquacious faculties of the crow thus wonderfully developed themselves—declared that if ever he called her name she would take his life.

A little while after, Fan, bearing in dinner & loaded with dishes, heard just at her heels—“Fan, where’s Buck? Tell Buck to come here!” Cook, dishes & dinner dropped as if felled by lightning! On recovery, however, she decided it most prudent not to execute her threats of destruction.

These are a few of the expressions daily used by Buck (for thus we designated our friend Corvus). He would immediately distinguish a stranger, whether man or dog, that might visit the house—& would never say anything in the presence of the former if he conceived himself observed by him. He spoke with great rapidity, distinctiveness & earnestness—& would spend hours talking to himself in a hurried intelligible jargon—occasionally making a considerable approximation to laughter—and seeming all the while deeply interested.

His great characteristics were, a disposition to
thieve
& to
tease
! His wings sometimes growing out so that he could fly—he was ever seizing keys—broaches—& other domestic articles—& watchfully secreting them, if possible beyond the reach of the family. He was generally with us at the marble ring—waiting an opportunity to break in upon our sport by snatching a marble & flying off with it—& the only chance of recovery in such cases was to throw something else at him while on the wing—when he would immediately drop the stolen article & catch at the one flying through the air. He has been known to dip down on the wing & detach an old woman’s cap from her head—& deposit it in a
tree. He greatly amused himself in slightly biting the toes of the barefooted urchins he met with—& a child with
red shoes
on could get no rest for him.

Finding a dog asleep he would softly approach him—smartly pinch his ear—& then look in a different direction as unconcernedly as if he was unconscious of what had been done. The dog shaking his head & once more composing himself to sleep would soon be again aroused by his innocent-looking tormentor—& again, & yet again—until the
flies
becoming insupportably troublesome—the poor deluded animal would seek for a bed, where he might be less annoyed by them. If two dogs got to fighting over a bone Buck was certain to terminate the contention by making off with the cause of it. Or if necessary—by exercising the most presumptuous daring, throwing himself upon a piece of disputed bread—he would by his dreaded mandibles keep off dogs & poultry of every description. He suffered nothing to approach the poultry trough upon a fresh acquisition of water until he had first laved his own glossy self.

Buck was the unrivaled lord of the walk. All other sources of sport failing, he would secrete himself & call out in huntsman’s phrase—“Hear! Hear! Hear!”—and have the dogs running & yelping all over the lot. Nothing seemed to suit the crow’s palette so well as young rats & birds—and like the
Frenchman
, he conceived them to be greatly improved by
mellowing
! To effect which he would carefully unearth them—keeping a “sharp lookout” during the process to avoid discovery. Nor was the massacre of these little animals the least interesting part of the ceremony of preparation—he delighted in the infliction of pain.

He manifested no disposition to return to a wild state—seeming to prefer his domestic comforts & the society of man to the precarious results of a wandering life & the company of his own “kith & kin.” Should a straggling brother pass in sight—he would merely salute him with his nasal
Caw
—& let him pass on.

Poor Buck’s career was short as it was wonderful, for after many remarkable adventures & hairbreadth escapes, he terminated his existence singularly in a
tub of water
! (whether
suicidally
or not did not appear!) at about 3 years of age. All lamented his death—& as the last testimony of respect for our sable friend—all the young
folks of the family, black & white, marched in procession, accompanied by the rustic music of the
tin pan
&
whistle
. We deposited his remains at the foot of a pear tree in the garden at Poplar Grove—discharging the arrows from our bows in his tiny tomb—& left the spot where “Buck Crow” lies, deeply impressed with the conviction that “we never should see his like again!”

Pardon me for thus so foolishly taxing your time & patience.

Respectedly,

Joseph J. Moore

In the spring of 1815 I for the first time saw a few individuals of this species at Henderson, on the banks of the Ohio a hundred and twenty miles below the Falls of that river [at Louisville]. It was an excessively cold morning and nearly all were killed by the severity of the weather. I drew up a description at the time, naming the species
Hirundo republicana
, the
Republican Swallow
, in allusion to the mode in which the individuals belonging to it associate for the purpose of forming their nests and rearing their young. Unfortunately, through the carelessness of my assistant the specimens were lost, and I despaired for years of meeting with others.

In the year 1819 my hopes were revived by Mr.
Robert Best, curator of the Western Cincinnati Museum, who informed me that a strange species of bird had made its appearance in the neighborhood, building nests in clusters affixed to the walls. In consequence of this information, I immediately crossed the Ohio to Newport, in Kentucky, where he had seen many nests the preceding season; and no sooner were we landed than the chirruping of my long-lost little strangers saluted my ear. Numbers of them were busily engaged in repairing the damage done to their nests by the storms of the preceding winter.

Major Oldham of the United States Army, then commandant of the garrison, politely offered us the means of examining the settlement of these birds attached to the walls of the building under his charge. He informed us that in 1815 he first saw a few of them working against the wall of the house, immediately under the eaves and cornice; that their work was carried on rapidly and peaceably and that as soon as the young were able to travel, they all departed.
Since that period they had returned every spring and then amounted to several hundreds. They usually appeared about the 10th of April and immediately began their work, which was at that moment, it being then the 20th of that month, going on in a regular manner against the walls of the arsenal. They had about fifty
nests quite finished and others in progress.