CROWS We were standing in the skirt of the wood
where the forestry people had been at work when the first Bight of pigeons came over and took us unawares. They escaped unharmed, wheeling at the critical moment and leaving us cursin our lack of alertness. My attention returned to the two carrion crows perched in the top of the ivy-strangled tree something more than a long gunshot away. From time to time one of these birds Rapped up and went on leisurely reconnaissance, keeping exactly the right distance from us as he flew in an arc to right or left. The wisdom of crows is legendary but it never ceases to fascinate me. This pair knew what we were about, but even when a single pigeon came beating over the elms and fell to my neighbour's shot they remained unruffled as far as I could see. I moved once and came almost within range of them, although I had no intention of shoot- ing, and both took off with unhurried dignity. They wanted to roost in that tree, it seemed, for when retreated they returned. It was just dusk then and the last muffled shots from other guns had died away. Experience and wisdom surely preserve the crow.
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