_Gabbling Crow._
_Corvus Jamaicensis._
_Cornix Jamaicensis_, +Briss.+
_Corvus Jamaicensis_, +Gmel.+
[59] Length 16¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 28, flexure 9¹⁄₂, tail 5³⁄₄,
rictus 2, tarsus 2, middle toe 1¹⁄₂. Intestine 30 inches; two cæca,
situated close together, on the inferior side of the rectum, about
¹⁄₂ inch from cloaca; ⁶⁄₁₀ inch long, slender. Irides greyish hazel.
In the wildest parts of the mountain regions of Jamaica, where the
perilous path winds round a towering cone on the one hand, and on the
other looks down into a deep and precipitous gully; or where a narrow
track, choked up with tree-ferns on which the vertical sun looks only
at noon-day, leads through the dark and damp forest to some lonely
negro ground, the traveller is startled by the still wilder tones of
the Jabbering Crow. So uncouth and yet so articulate, so varied in
the inflexions of their tones, are these sounds, that the wondering
stranger can with difficulty believe he is listening to the voice of
a bird, but rather supposes he hears the harsh consonants, and deep
guttural intonations of some savage language. All the Crows are
garrulous, and several are capable of tolerable imitations of human
speech, but the present is the only example I am aware of, in which
the language of man is resembled by a bird in a state of nature. The
resemblance, however, is rather general than particular; every one
who hears it is struck with its likeness to speech, though he cannot
detect any known words: it is the language of a foreigner. One cannot
easily convey an idea of the sounds by writing; but the following
fragments which the negroes have been able to catch from the learned
bird’s own mouth, will give some notion of their character. “Walk fast,
crāb! do buckra work.—Cuttacoo[60] better than wallet.” It must not be
supposed that these words uniformly represent the sounds; these and
similar combinations of harsh consonants and broad vowels, are varied
_ad infinitum_, as are also the tones in which they are expressed. For
myself, I have thought them ludicrously like the very peculiar voice
of Punch in a puppet-show; others have fancied in them half-a dozen
Welshmen quarrelling. These strange sounds are generally poured forth
in _sentences_, of varying length, from the summit of some lofty tree,
or in the course of the bird’s passage from one to another.
[60] A _cuttacoo_ is a negro’s little hand-basket.
In some parts of the mountains they are not uncommon, though their
loquacity would induce us to think them more numerous than they are,
for we rarely see more than two or three at once. They are social,
but not gregarious; and much of their time is spent in visiting
successively the summits of those trees that tower above the rest
of the forest, the Santa-Maria, the bread-nut, the broad-leaf, and
the cotton-tree. As these visitations are often performed alone,
I imagine that the gabbling cries are calls to their companions,
especially as, if another comes within hearing, he is pretty sure to
visit his clamorous brother, and enter into noisy conversation with
him. After spending a few minutes on one tree, during which they do
not, _generally_, change their position, otherwise than by walking
deliberately along the branch, they both wing their way to the
next station, not side by side, but one a little behind the other,
both calling as they go. The bleached and bare limbs of a dry tree
are always selected, when one of the requisite elevation is within
range, as affording most fully that which they seem to delight in,
an unobstructed prospect. Sometimes they do alight on lower trees,
but then they are very wary and suspicious, so that it is a difficult
matter to get within shot of one. When out of gun range, which they
seem to estimate pretty accurately, they are much more careless of
a passing stranger. Their flight is heavy and slow. They scarcely
ever desert the solitudes of the mountains; two thousand feet is the
lowest limit at which I have known them, with two exceptions. The one
is that in certain lofty woods surrounding the extensive morass in
Saltspring Pen, near Black river, I have heard the voices of these
birds clamorously uttered, in the latter part of November. The other
instance occurred behind Pedro Bluff, but little above the level of the
sea, where I heard this bird in June.
The food of the Jabbering Crow is principally vegetable. Of several
shot in autumn, the stomachs contained various berries, some fleshy,
others farinaceous. The stomach is a muscular sac, but not a gizzard.
Descending in the early months of the year to the ripening sour sops,
on which it feeds, it is then much more approachable, but at the same
time more silent. And about the same time, the seed of the bitter wood
is ripe, which also attracts him. One of these trees is in the yard of
a house at Content, where I occasionally sojourned; this was generally
visited at dawn of day, and sometimes in the evening, by the Crows. I
have been amused by the intelligence which they manifest in approaching
it: a company of two or three will come into the neighbourhood,
and alight with much clamour on some tree in the woods, a few rods
distant; we hear no further sound, but presently one and another are
seen stealing on silent wing to the bitter-wood, where they nibble the
berries in all stillness and quiet. I could not help thinking that the
noisy and ostentatious alighting on the first tree was but a feint
to prevent suspicion, as if they should say, “Here we are, you see;
this is the place that we frequent.” And this, I am informed, is not
an accidental case, but a habit. The pimento also, which in its green
state is eaten by so many of our birds, tempts the Jabbering Crow in
February from his forest fastnesses, to the low but dense groves that
clothe the mountain brows.
An intelligent person has informed me, that it will take advantage of a
small bird’s being entangled in a withe, to kill and eat it; and that
when a boy, amusing himself by setting springes for small birds, he has
occasionally known them to be taken out of the springe by the Jabbering
Crow. These statements, at least as far as the animal appetite is
concerned, are in some measure confirmed by an experiment with one
I had alive. One day in December, hearing a strange querulous sound
proceeding from the top of the woods near me, I sent Sam to find the
cause. He ascertained it to proceed from one of two Jabbering Crows,
perched side by side on the top of a tree; the vociferous one being
evidently young, though in full plumage, and capable of flight, for it
was shivering its wings, while with open beak receiving something from
the mouth of the other, doubtless its parent. He shot the old one, and
slightly wounding it in the wing, brought it to the ground, where it
ran so vigorously, that he had difficulty in securing it. It was rather
formidable too; for it clutched his hand with its claws so forcibly, as
to give pain; and afterwards, as I was holding it, it nipped my finger
with the point of its powerful beak, and took the piece out. When
turned into a room, it climbed about the various objects, by walking,
and taking considerable jumps, striving to gain the highest elevation
it could attain, where it sat, moody, but watchful. I presented to
it the flesh of one side of the breast of a bird just skinned. He
seized it greedily, and, after carrying it about a little, attempted
to swallow it. In this he did not succeed without many efforts, as the
piece was large: he several times tried to toss it while in his beak,
and also drew it out by setting his foot on it, and took it in another
position; but seemed to have no power of dividing it.
Robinson says, “They are great devourers of ripe plantains and bananas,
and also rob the wild pigeons of their eggs and young. When tame, they
are very droll and diverting, and as arrant thieves as our Jackdaws
and Magpies, stealing knives, spoons, thimbles, &c., and hiding them.
They abandon all such plantations as have the woods much cleared away
from them, of which there have been many instances. They are often seen
stooping down and drinking the water that is deposited in the bosom
of the leaves of the largest wild pines. When employed in stealing
plantains, they are said to be very silent, but at other times are
the most loquacious, noisy animals breathing. I have been informed
by some very creditable persons, that they will attack and destroy a
yellow-snake; their method is to fly upon him one after another, and
tearing away a mouthful of his skin and flesh, retreat. This they do
with great nimbleness, and with impunity, till they have devoured the
poor animal alive.” (MSS.)
Once in walking in a very lonely wood, I came suddenly on a Jabbering
Crow sitting on a low tree just over my head; the bird was evidently
startled, and in the surprise quite lost its _presence of mind_; for
instead of making off with the usual clamour, it flew mute to another
low tree a few yards off, where it sat peeping at me in silence, until
I shot it.
I have never met with the nest; but a young friend, to whom I am
indebted for several interesting facts, tells me, that about the
beginning of last June, he was accustomed to see a pair on a very lofty
cotton-tree, which he thought were nesting. He repeatedly saw them go
and “lie down,” as he expressed it, in a large bunch of wild-pine,
where they would remain for some time; and when one flew out, the
other, which had been sitting on the same tree, would go and sit in the
place. Usually the bird will leave its position on the slightest alarm,
but when either of these was in its hollow, nothing would induce it
to fly. He on one occasion fired thrice at the sitting bird, but she
would not leave her place, and the situation was too lofty for the shot
to reach her. The approach of the birds to the wild-pine was always
perfectly silent and cautious; but they would dart out on any other
bird flying near, and drive it away with clamour. On the whole, I have
no doubt that this pair had a nest in the wild-pine.
The same young friend once witnessed a singular rencontre between two
Jabbering Crows, and two Red-tail Buzzards, and in this case it is
probable that parental solicitude gave the desperate courage. A single
Hawk flying along was pounced upon by a Crow from a neighbouring tree,
and a flying fight commenced, the Hawk thrusting forth his talons
in endeavour to clutch, in which he once succeeded, and the Crow
repeatedly striking his enemy forcibly with his sharp and powerful
beak. Now and then each would rise perpendicularly and pounce down
upon the other: this was principally but not solely, the manner of
the Buzzard, the Crow usually striking his blow, and then retreating
obliquely. After some time a second Hawk approached, which was attacked
by another Crow; and now the melée went on in the same manner between
the four combatants. The conflict lasted near ten minutes, and at
length terminated in favour of the Crows, who fairly drove their
opponents off the aerial field, pursuing them with pertinacity to a
great distance. At the moment of my writing down this account, it
was in a measure confirmed by my actually observing a Jabbering Crow
pursuing with insult a Buzzard over the woods: it was strange to see,
that after he had returned from the pursuit, he himself was attacked by
a little Petchary, to whose superior prowess he was fain to yield, and
flee in his turn.
In the latter part of May and early in June, which I presume to be the
season of incubation, the singular chattering is almost relinquished
for a much more monotonous cawing, somewhat like the note of the Rook,
but uttered more pertinaciously, and more _impatiently_.
Robinson states that “they build their nest with slender twigs in the
manner of Rooks on the tops of lofty trees, but not more than two
nests on one tree. When they have young they will suffer nobody to
take them, assaulting the bold invader with great courage and much
clamour, fiercely buffeting his face with their wings, at the same
time endeavouring to pluck out his eyes with their strong beaks.” He
elsewhere states that “they are said to build in hollow trees.” (MSS.)
The flesh is not eaten; but having a curiosity to taste it, I had one
broiled. The flesh of the breast was well-tasted and juicy, but so
dark, tough, and coarse-grained, that I should readily have mistaken it
for _beef_.