. St. Nicholas [serial]. own and the eggs gone. The catbirdsnest was empty. Three of the newly-hatchedrobins were missing and the fourth lay dying inthe nest. The song-sparrows home was tornto pieces and the eggs missing; while the jewel-box of the chipping-sparrow, too, was the four blunt blue eggs of the cuckoo wereuntouched—such a furtive, uncanny bird thatperhaps even a crow does not care to rob its nest. In the bad old days when I used to shoot, in-stead of study, wild things I shot but one was not for lack of trying. Many and many a 966 THE SKY PIRATE [Sept. time I sn
. St. Nicholas [serial]. own and the eggs gone. The catbirdsnest was empty. Three of the newly-hatchedrobins were missing and the fourth lay dying inthe nest. The song-sparrows home was tornto pieces and the eggs missing; while the jewel-box of the chipping-sparrow, too, was the four blunt blue eggs of the cuckoo wereuntouched—such a furtive, uncanny bird thatperhaps even a crow does not care to rob its nest. In the bad old days when I used to shoot, in-stead of study, wild things I shot but one was not for lack of trying. Many and many a 966 THE SKY PIRATE [Sept. time I sneaked through the woods and climbedclear to the top of Pond Hill after a flock of crowsthat was holding a noisy caw-cus. (Excuse me—that bad pun slipped out before I could stop it.)Yet no matter how quietly I went nor how care-fully I hid, some crafty old sentinel would see mebefore I came within gunshot. There would bea warning note that sounded above all the others,the cawing would stop instantly, and the air would. THE BIRD OF ALL SEASONSHot, cold, wet, dry, winter, summer—allweathers are alike to the crow be black with flapping, hurrying crows. Thefirst and last crow that I shot was one of a flockthat alighted in an oak-tree just over a tent inwhich I was camping with two other of us was over twelve, and we were al-lowed guns only on condition that we ate every-thing that we shot. It had been a troublednight. I had slept on a pillow stuffed with new-mown hay. The hay contained a number ofgrasshoppers, which would crawl around undermy ear and make a noise like elephants smashingthrough forests. Toward morning I dozed off,only to be awakened again by a tremendous racketfrom the tree just over the camp. The caws(there I go again—I must be more careful!) wasa flock of crows discussing the white tent. I slipped a shell into my shot-gun, stuck my headout, and fired aloft. One crow fell. Too late Iremembered that eating and killing went other boys ha
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
