Next week they would do exactly the same thing.
Crows, more than any other birds, are fond of excitement and great
crowds; the slightest unusual object furnishes an occasion for an
assembly. A wounded bird will create as much stir in a flock of crows
as a railroad accident does in a village. But when some prowling old
crow discovers an owl sleeping away the sunlight in the top of a great
hemlock, his delight and excitement know no bounds. There is a
suppressed frenzy in his very call that every crow in the neighborhood
understands. _Come! come! everybody come!_ he seems to be screaming as
he circles over the tree-top; and within two minutes there are more
crows gathered about that old hemlock than one would believe existed
within miles of the place. I counted over seventy one day, immediately
about a tree in which one of them had found an owl; and I think there
must have been as many more flying about the outskirts that I could
not count.
At such times one can approach very near with a little caution, and
attend, as it were, a crow caucus. Though I have attended a great
many, I have never been able to find any real cause for the
excitement. Those nearest the owl sit about in the trees cawing
vociferously; not a crow is silent. Those on the outskirts are flying
rapidly about and making, if possible, more noise than the inner ring.
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