COLOMBO CROW
By D. MacCLURE
THE most dishonest kleptomaniac on earth is the Colombo crow. Theft is his sole purpose in life from the moment he leaves the untidy nest of his parents in the mango tree, where he has been reared on stolen goods. He pursues a career of audacious wicked- ness that would shock even a jackdaw into honesty. His character is blacker than his wing. The Colombo crow has not a friend in all the world. Every hand, every tooth and every beak is against him—and he simply glories in it. In the thick green jungles he could dwell in peace and earn an honest livelihood, so he doesn't live there. He dissipates in town and rears 'his family in trees which are within purloining distdnce of wherever his human victim happens to be living. You will never find him straying far from the haunts of man, but even so he does not disdain to swindle the hungry pariah dog out of his inheritance of garbage. He is insatiable, com- bining the appetites of the vulture with the tastes of the ostrich. One minute he steals the toast off the mess table, and the next he is joining in a heated discussion with his fellow-gangsters over the carcase of a rat.
Look at him as he perches there on the verandah railing. His legs are bent, his wings are half open and his body thrust forward in readiness for instant flight, for if he has no scruples he certainly has an uneasy conscience.. He carries his head on one side, with his beak agape. His wicked eyes are rolling restlessly. In fact he looks exactly what we know him to be—a bad, bold, blood-curdling bird. He is up to no good on that railing. He never went any- where on an honourable errand and he never will. He is ,waiting till your back is turned, when he will drop noiselessly in at the open window and carry away anything portable that you happen to wain and he doesn't. He purloins for sheer love of purloining, for in nine cases out of ten he leaves his booty on the most inaccessible part of the outbuildings, after carelessly scanning it with his beady eyes. In the tenth case he drops it into the water tank, and gives you the maddening impression that he does so by accident. Then he comes back to the verandah for the express purpose of hearing you use the baddest of bad language. Anything bright and shining, like a polished spoon or penknife or a wrist-watch, has an irresistible attraction for the Colombo crow, and the native boys know it. Thus, when such an article mysteri- ously disappears, as things do disappear in Colombo, the boy always
" saw crow come itake.it." And what can you do? A crow once took away four of our tablespoons in this way, but very thoughtfully brought them back and laid them in a drawer of the table in the mess when he discovered that they were electroplate instead of solid silver. Both the boy and the cook recollected seeing the crow carry off these spoons, but could not remember seeing them brought back, though they agreed that it must have taken some time for the crow to open the drawer and then shut it again. Crows never go to the trouble of restoring anything that is convertible into rupees and annas in the bazaar.
The intelligence of an elderly crow is exasperating. Point a Sten- gun at him and he literally vanishes into thin air. Threaten him with a Sten-gun unloaded, and without stirring a feather he will openly jeer at you with his shrill, coughing " squark! squark I " He looks upon a hand-thrown missile with withering contempt. He waits till it is within six inches of his head, pretends he has just noticed it, and steps casually aside to let it pass, yawning. Sane, sober men, with long and honourable service to their credit, have been taken away from the crow's presence gibbering with maniacal laughter.
The crow's extraordinary tastes have already been mentioned, but what in the name of gastronomy is there to recommend a scorpion as an article of diet? Yet his fondness, for this ghastly reptile amounts to a passion. Often you will see half a dozen crows standing silently in a circle on a piece of open ground. In the middle is a scorpion, lathing out on all sides with his dangerous curved spur. Let him stop for one moment to take a breather and you will see one of the crows make a move as if to peck him, when he will start again and go on until he has expended every vestige of energy. Patiently, almost philosophically, the crows will gravely stand and watch him until it is quite safe for a vicious jab with a sharp beak, severing the dangerous tail with its sac of poison. Then, amid an uproar of squawks and barks, the scorpion is torn to pieces and swalloired on the spot.
Even an English dog is no match for the intelligence of the devil's own bird. We had in the mess a fox terrier of long Eastern experi- ence. One morning he was eating a chicken-bone on the verandah when two crows happened to pass. You could almost imagine the screech of brakes as they spotted the chicken-bone. They wheeled down and casually alighted on the verandah railing, and after a short conference they set to work croaking so that the terrier would be induced to drop the bone.
In ordinary circumstances a dog will fly at a crow the moment he appears. but the terrier was wise. He merely looked up, growled, and continued gnawing. The crows stopped croaking and went into conference aeain. Then one of them dropped on to the verandah a few yards behind the dog and croaked at him again. The only result was a growl. Casually, the crow hopped up and down the verandah, giving the terrier time to become absOrbed in his bone once more. Then swiftly and silently he darted up from behind the diig and viciously pecked at his tail. It was too much. With a yelp of pain the dog whirled round, and in a twinkling the other crow had swooped down upon the bone and carried it off. Never did a dog wear such an abject look of humiliation and rage as that terrier did wheat he realised how he had been fooled. • Most certainly, if we are to believe the doctrine of the survival of the fittest, a time will come when the crow, and the crow only, will populate the world.
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