RASCALS WE MUST ADMIRE
American Crow
Blue Jay
Canada Jay
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AMERICAN CROW
Two close relatives there are which, like the poor, are always with
us--the crow and the blue jay. Both are mischievous rascals,
extraordinarily clever, with the most highly developed brains that any
of our birds possess. Some men of science believe that, because of
their brain power, they rightly belong at the head of the bird class
where the thrushes now stand; but who wishes to see a family of
songless rogues awarded the highest honours of the class _Aves?_
No bird is so well known to "every child," so admired by artists, so
hated by farmers, as the crow, who flaps his leisurely way above the
cornfields with a _caw_ for friend and foe alike, not caring the least
for anyone's opinion of him, good or bad. Perhaps he knows his own
true worth better than the average farmer, who has persecuted him with
bounty laws, shotgun, and poison for generations. The crow keeps no
account of the immense numbers of grubs and larvae he picks up as he
walks after the plough every spring, nor does the farmer, who
nevertheless counts the corn stolen as fast as it is planted, and as
fast as it ripens, {154} you may be very sure, and puts a price on the
robber's head. Yet he knows that corn, dipped in tar before it is put
in the ground, will be left alone to sprout. But who is clever enough
to keep the crows out of the field in autumn?
How humiliated would humans feel if they realised what these knowing
birds must think of us when we set up in our cornfields the
absurd-looking scares they so calmly ignore! Some crows I know ate
every kernel off every ear around the scare-crow in a neighbour's
field, but touched no stalk very far from it, as much as to say: "We
take your dare along with your corn, Mr. Silly. If the ox that
treadeth out his corn is entitled to his share of it, ought not we,
who saved it from grasshoppers, cutworms, May beetles and other pests,
be sharers in the profits?" Granted; but what about eating the
farmer's young chickens and turkeys as well as the eggs and babies of
little song birds? At times, it must be admitted, the crow's heart is
certainly as dark as his feathers; he is as black as he is painted,
but happily such cannibalism is apt to be rare. Strange that a bird so
tenderly devoted to his own fledglings, should be so heartless to
others'!
Toward the end of winter, you may see a pair of crows carrying sticks
and trash to the top of some tall tree in the leafless woods, {155}
and there, in this bulky cradle, almost as bulky as a squirrel's nest,
they raise their family. Young crows may be easily tamed and they make
interesting, but very mischievous pets. It is only when crows are
nesting that they give up their social, flocking habit.
In winter, if the fields be lean, large picturesque flocks may be seen
at dawn streaking across the sky to distant beaches where they feed on
worms, refuse and small shellfish. More than one crow has been
watched, rising in the air with a clam or a mussel in his claws,
dropping it on a rock, then falling after it, as soon as the shell is
smashed, to feast upon its contents. The fish crow, a distinct
species, never found far inland, although not necessarily seen near
water, may be distinguished from our common crow by its hoarser _car_.
In some cases it joins its cousins on the beaches. With punctual
regularity at sundown, the flocks straggle back inland to go to sleep,
sometimes thousands of crows together in a single roost. Many birds
have more regular meal hours and bed-time than some children seem to
care for. Because crows eat almost anything they can find, and pick up
a good living where other birds, more finical or less clever, would
starve, they rarely need to migrate; but they are great rovers. There
is not a day in the year when you could not find a crow.
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BLUE JAY
This vivacious, dashing fellow, harsh-voiced and noisy, cannot be
overlooked; for when a brightly coloured bird, about a foot long,
roves about your neighbourhood with a troop of screaming relatives,
everybody knows it. In summer he keeps quiet, but throws off all
restraint in autumn. Hear him hammering at an acorn some frosty
morning! How vigorous his motions, how alert and independent! His
beautiful military blue, black and white feathers, and crested head,
give him distinction.
He is certainly handsome. But is his beauty only skin deep? Does it
cover, in reality, a multitude of sins? Shocking stories of murder in
the song bird's nest have branded the blue jay with quite as bad a
name as the crow's. The brains of fledglings, it has been said, are
his favourite tid-bits. But happily scientists, who have turned the
searchlight on his deeds, find that his sins have been very greatly
exaggerated. Remains of young birds were found in only two out of
nearly three hundred blue jays' stomachs analysed. Birds' eggs are
more apt to be sucked by both jays and squirrels than are the
nestlings to be eaten. Do you ever enjoy an egg for breakfast? Fruit,
grain, thin-shelled nuts, and the larger seeds of trees {157} and
shrubs, gathered for the most part in Nature's open store-room, not in
man's, are what the jay chiefly delights in; and these he hides away,
squirrel-fashion, to provide for the rainy day. More than half of all
his food in summer consists of insects, so you see he is then quite as
useful as his cousin, the crow.
Jays are fearful teasers. How they love to chase about some poor,
blinking, bewildered owl, in the daylight! _Jay-jay-jay_, you may hear
them scream through the woods. They mimic the hawk's cry for no better
reason, perhaps, than that they may laugh at the panic into which
timid little birds are thrown at the terrifying sound. A pet jay I
knew could whistle up the stupid house-dog, who was fooled again and
again. This same jay used to carry all its beech nuts to a piazza
roof, wedge them between the shingles, and open them there with ease.
An interesting array of hair pins, matches, buttons, a thimble and a
silver spoon were raked out of his favourite cache under the eaves.
CANADA JAY
_Called also: Whiskey Jack; Moose-bird; Meat-bird_
Anyone who has camped in the northern United States and over the
Canadian border knows that the crow and blue jay have a rogue for
{158} a cousin in this sleek, bold thief, the Canada jay. He is a
fluffy, big, gray bird, without a crest, with a white throat and
forehead and black patch at the back of his neck. This rascal will
walk alone or with his gang into your tent, steal your candles,
matches, venison, and collar-buttons before your eyes, or help himself
to the fish bait while he perches on your canoe, or laugh at you with
an impudent _ca-ca-ca_ from the mountain ash tree where he and his
friends are feasting on the berries; then glide to the ground to slyly
pick a trap set for mink or marten. Fortunate the trapper who, on his
return, does not find either bait gone, or game damaged.
Fearless, amazingly hardy (having been hatched in zero weather),
mischievous and clever to a maddening degree, this jay, like his
cousins, compels admiration, although we know all three to be rogues.
[Illustration]
Blue jay on her nest
[Illustration]
Five little teasers get no dinner from Mamma blue jay
[Illustration]
Not afraid of the camera: baby blue jay out for their first airing
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