The Way of the Wild (Hawkes)/The Crow Convention
It was a clear, crisp clay about the middle of September. The sky was clear as though Dame Nature had swept it with a broom. The air was fragrant with ripe fruit and dead leaves. The lap of Mother Nature was filled to overflowing with the good things of earth. Well she had redeemed the promises of spring and summer. It was a day to make the heart glad and one to remember when the snow lay white on the fields.
It was the day of the crow convention. The forty-fifth division of the Crow's Association of North America were having their annual convention in Farmer Brown's sugar orchard. I presume that every black rogue of them thought the day had been made especially for him.
Ever since early morning crow scouts had been flying across the country assembling the clan. And since about noon they had been gathering at the sugar bush. You could see them coming by twos and threes, flying leisurely, as is the way of crows. The sugar orchard, which was a large grove of several hundred rock maples, was splendidly adapted for such a gathering. The leaves were still thick enough on the trees to afford a screen for the proceedings. This grove was set apart from the rest of the woods, so that, by placing half a dozen sentries on the outskirts of the grove, they could be sure that they would not be surprised by any hunters. Not that any hunter would ever want to shoot a crow to eat, "eating crow" being a proverb referring to anything that is very unpalatable. But crows are such rascals that hunters often go out of their way to shoot them.
By three o'clock in the afternoon they had all assembled. The trees for an acre were black with them, old crows and young crows, shiny black crows and rusty crows, crows just hatched that spring, and crows who could boast a score of years at least. Most of them were rather quiet. Occasionally a young crow would try his voice, though he was usually reprimanded rather severely by his elders. The orders were to keep quiet, but when the meeting had once been opened it was hard to keep quiet. There were usually many exciting things to discuss.
Sometimes they disagreed and had to express their minds forcefully. Then, too, they occasionally had to express themselves with one accord, just as a crowd of boys do when they give three cheers.
When the scouts had reported that they could see no more crows coming across the fields, the meeting was opened by the president, a very dignified black old crow, who was supposed to be the wisest crow in the clan. One reason for his wisdom was that he had been captured by a farmer when he was young. He had lived for several months with the farmer's family so he had learned many of their ways. He had also acquired several words of their speech which he often quoted, to the great admiration of his fellows. In short, he was what you might call an educated crow. He knew not only all that the rest of the crows did but he had a sort of crow college education besides. Thus he was able to tell the clan what the farmer would do under certain provocation. He knew traps, poison, scarecrows and firearms, so he Was a most valuable president and leader. The clan knew this and they held him in great esteem.
When it was time to open the convention, the old crow mounted to the top of a very high maple, where he was plainly seen by all the clan, and addressed them in crow language.
"It gives me great pleasure, Crow ladies and gentlemen," he said, "to call this convention to order. It is the tenth convention that I have presided over since I took the leadership of the clan. You certainly have prospered under my leadership."
"Caw, caw, caw," came from every hand. This meant, "Yes, yes, yes, we have," in crow language.
The old crow stood a little straighter on his perch and continued. "I have certainly saved many of your scalps, for I have taught you the wisdom of men. If you are to fight men, you must know their ways and their thoughts as well as their language. You bet." This latter phrase was given in English by the president to the great astonishment of the young crows and the delight of the older ones. A caw of approval ran like a ripple through the maples.
"Yes, I have led you wisely, but there are still several things that I want to call your attention to. The most important of these is the robbing of birds' nests in the villages close to the houses. It must stop at once."
"How can we live if we don't rob birds' nests?" croaked a rusty old crow. "I have to have bird's eggs in the early spring to keep my coat black."
"It don't keep it very black, grandpa," sneered a sleek fellow close to the president.
"Wait until you are as old as I am," croaked grandpa. "I don't believe you will have even a tail feather left."
"Silence, silence," cawed the chairman. "Don't quarrel and don't interrupt me. I repeat what I have already said. The robbing of birds' nests in the villages must cease at once, or something will happen that will make this clan look like a blackbird's funeral. Listen to me. The other day I was roosting in the old pine close to the house where I used to live. I occasionally go there and listen to the talk. I can often pick up valuable information.
"Billy Brown was telling Mr. Brown that there was talk of putting a bounty on us crows, because we killed so many young birds. Do you know what that means?"
"No, no, no, tell us, tell us," cawed a dozen crows at once.
"Of course you don't know. Most of you don't know anything." The old crow stopped and preened his feathers complacently. Finally he continued, "Well, I will tell you. It means that the men will say that for every crow that is shot or captured in any way they will give one of the shiny pieces that they call money. It is a magic disk that you can get anything with. I found one in the road one day. If that happens, all the boys in the country will be after us with their guns. Not only that, but they will poison us and trap us, until there aren't a dozen crows left in this mighty clan."
The chairman looked around in triumph to see if his words had made their proper impression. They certainly had. They had created consternation in the clan. All was excitement. A chorus of wild caws arose. Old crows craned their necks anxiously and looked hard at the president. Such consternation had never been known in the maple grove.
Finally the commotion subsided. "Wise leader?" asked a sleek crow near the chairman, "what do you suggest? How would you ward off such a calamity? We will be guided by your wisdom. Such a calamity cannot be permitted. We are the scavengers of the country. What would become of all the dead horses and calves and other carrion that men are too lazy to bury if it was not for us? Why, the whole countryside would be filled with stench. Men ought to think of that."
"They ought to think of many things which they do not," said the president. "What I would suggest is this. That we make a rule not to rob a bird's nest in sight of a house. That is the only safe way."
"Oh, my coat," piped grandpa. "I shall be as rusty as a rusty blackbird. No lady crow will ever look at me again. I was thinking seriously of taking a mate next spring and raising a fine brood."
This announcement was greeted by a great caw of derision from the lady crows, all of whom looked disdainfully at the old fellow.
"We won't worry any about your coat or your mate," said the chairman sternly. "You are rustier than any blackbird now, and there isn't a lady crow in the convention who would so much as look at you."
"Caw, caw, caw," chorused all the female crows. "He's a back number. He's a rusty old gent. We don't want him."
"You see how it is. You had better make the best of it."
At these stern words from the chairman who looked at the old chap in his most disdainful manner the grandpa subsided and was very quiet during the rest of the meeting.
"It will cut off a large part of our nest robbing," said a dignified crow. "Most of the song-birds are in the villages or near the houses of men."
"That is so," agreed the chairman, "but there will still be good picking. There are the bobolinks in the meadows and the thrushes along the edge of the woods and scores of small birds that nest in the fields.
"It can't be helped. We have got to consider the clan as a whole. We are very important birds and our numbers must be maintained."
This announcement was greeted with a chorus of approval.
"Now," continued the chairman, "I am going to prescribe a very severe penalty. Any crow who is found robbing a bird's nest in sight of the abode of men must suffer the severest penalty that we ever inflict. He will have his eyes picked out by the clan. You all know that means starvation. So beware."
At this announcement a deep silence fell upon the clan. It was certainly a very serious matter.
"Now," said the president, "we will listen to the report of the chairman on membership. Let us see if we are holding our own."
A sleek, dignified crow, who was also something of a leader, took a commanding position where he could be both seen and heard, and made his report.
"Last year at this convention we reported five hundred and sixty members. I am glad to announce that to-day we have five hundred and ninety members, not including several crows who are absent. Some of our scouts are visiting other conventions."
"Caw, caw, caw. Good, good, good," resounded from every quarter. "Long live this clan. Caw, caw, hurrah, hurrah."
"I am able to make this final report," continued the chairman, "although nearly a hundred of our members lost their lives in the great freeze last winter when we were frozen in under the crust."
"That certainly was a sad event," remarked the president during the quiet which succeeded this terrible announcement. "It shows that the clan should be careful about digging in when there is liable to be a great freeze. For my part I would rather take my chances in the top of a pine or hemlock. You must all be more careful this coming winter.
"Hawks, owls and hunters have taken their usual toll from our ranks, but, thanks to our loyal mother crows, we have made our numbers good. I call for three cheers for the mother crows of this convention."
"Caw, caw, caw," resounded through the maple grove. At this the lady crows looked very happy and well satisfied.
"Nearly four hundred young crows were hatched this spring," continued the chairman, "of which nearly two hundred are here to-day. That is a good per cent. to survive."
"Good, good, good," chorused the clan.
"There is one fact that I wish to call attention to and to suggest a remedy. That is that so many of our old crows are blind in the right eye. It comes, of course, from the fact that when we put our heads under our left wings on a cold night and go to sleep, we do not quite cover the right side of the head with the wing. Or if we do, in sleep we get careless and it becomes uncovered.
"Here is the cure for the evil. Always be sure that the head is fully covered when you go to sleep. Also occasionally change and put your head under the other wing."
"We can't, we can't, we have always slept in that way," protested several young crows.
"Yes, you can," contradicted the chairman. "You can get used to anything. It is a great handicap being able to see out of only one eye. It gives our enemies a chance to steal up on us. We all need two good eyes."
"We do, we do," cawed the clan.
"So take all pains in this matter," continued the chairman.
"Another thing that we should look out for is the fact that men are laying poison for us. Always inspect your food carefully before you eat it. I think this is all to-day. I congratulate the clan on making so good a showing and I wish it a happy and prosperous year."
"It is a fine report," cawed the old leader from his perch in the tall maple. "I certainly hope we will have a good year. We will if my wisdom is heeded."
"Sure, sure," cawed his fellows.
"Now," said the chairman, "I will call for the report from the chairman on foraging. This is a veiy important report."
A rather rakish looking crow, whose wings had sometime been riddled with shot, flopped up to a commanding position and began his report.
"I am happy to announce," he said, "that the outlook is very good for this autumn. I can report three dead horses and two cows, which are buried so shallowly that we can easily get at them."
"Good, good," chorused the clan.
"In addition to that, there are a dozen calves and as many sheep."
He then proceeded to give the location of each of these finds and delegated crows in certain sections to feed upon these caches.
"There are twenty cornfields within a mile of this grove where the corn has not yet been taken in. That is good feeding. Also there will be much scattering shelled corn after the shocks are drawn in. There are likewise many rye and barley fields and two bean patches where the beans shelled badly in the field. All this means good feeding for this autumn.
"I wish to ask you all to take pains to locate all the forage that you can for winter eating. That is when we go short. The winter is the rub. All the orchards must be visited and the apples that still stick to the trees noted. Haystacks near to the buildings accord good picking in the early morning before men are up.
"It is the early crow that gets his breakfast without having the farmer get him. So get up early and look out for yourselves. I think that finishes my report."
At the inviting picture of good feeding which this wise old crow had prepared, the clan fairly made the maple grove ring with their lusty cawing. So much so that Mr. Brown and his son who were working in a distant field heard them plainly.
"What a racket the crows are making in the grove," said young Tom. "If we weren't so busy, I would go up and shoot a few."
"It is the annual gathering," returned his father. "They have it every year. What are two or three crows out of five hundred? You had better stick to getting in the corn. They have taken enough of it already."
"I was down at the house roosting in the old pine listening for wisdom," said the president when the cawing had ceased, "and I heard Mr. Brown say that women were very important this year. They were voting, or something of the kind. I do not know just what that means, but I guess we had better follow in their lead. So we will have a few words from our senior mother, Mrs. Black Night, who is so much revered by this clan."
"Good, good," chorused the convention.
Mrs. Black Night flopped up close to the shining chairman with a coquettish air and craned her neck and said, "I am very happy that we have at last been recognized. We are the important members of the crow family."
"No, no," cawed several stern old male crows.
"Don't interrupt her," said the chairman. "Let her have her say. That is the way Mr. Brown does down at the house. Why, when Mrs. Brown gets to cawing, he can't so much as clear his throat."
"I repeat," said Mrs. Black Night with an injured air, "that we are the important members of this clan. We lay the eggs and hatch them and then look out for the young crows while you males are loafing about the country. If it wasn't for us the clan would disappear in a very few years. So we should be given our share of praise. We are good mothers. We have the good of the clan at heart and I am glad to say we do our work well."
"You do, you do," chorused the convention.
"I am not a speech-maker like our wise chairman or like Mrs. Brown, so wishing the clan good luck I will close." She retired to her first perch amid a great cawing from the convention.
"I think this concludes the business of the day," continued the president. "I am very glad that we have had such a good meeting. Now remember all my words of wisdom and farewell until we meet again next year."
With these words from the sagacious leader the convention was closed. A few wise old heads lingered to talk over the affairs of Crowland and to make suggestions for the coming winter. But most of the clan were very eager to inspect the good feeding that had been reported by the chairman on foraging. So they flocked out of the maple grove by scores, some flying this way and some that, each eager to beat his fellow to the good feed.
In five minutes' time where there had been five hundred and ninety crows there were only a dozen or so. These, too, finally took wing and the maple grove was deserted. Thus ended this memorable convention of Division Forty-five and the black rascals all went back to their stealing and scavenger work, useful in some ways, but very destructive in others. It is to be hoped that they will observe the warning of their leader not to rob birds' nests close to houses. But it is hard to teach old crows new tricks and I am afraid that we will often be awakened next spring by the cries of the song-birds when these black rascals rob their nests of both eggs and fledglings.
But such is the life of the out-of-doors. The larger prey on the smaller, and only the strongest and wisest survive.