Whilst night's black agents to their prey do rouse.'
"But they sank peacefully down, and all of evil seemed to go, with their sweet, joyous, innocent, and well-loved voices."
Here is one last picture, and I would point out that, on all these three occasions, when the rooks slept in changed quarters, at a later time of the year, the way in which they approached or entered the trees, and the height at which they flew, varied, in a greater or less degree, from what it had been before.
"March 11th.—At 6.20 a small band of rooks comes flapping along in the usual jog-trot way, and enters the plantation. Some five minutes afterwards a very large number sail up, flying at a great height, and gather like a storm-cloud above it. They hang over it, then drift, circling, a little, descending gradually on outspread wings, till, when at a moderate height above the tree-tops, they begin to shoot down into them in the rapid, whizzing manner before described. But they do not all do this at the same time. It is a slow and gradual—in its first stages almost a solemn—entry, and the shooting down itself becomes, gradually, less rapid. How grand is this to witness! It is a living storm-cloud discharging its black winged rain—a simile, indeed, which can hardly fail to suggest itself, so apparent is the resemblance. At a distance, I think, the two might be really confounded. The gradual sinking of the birds, by fine gradations and almost imperceptibly, from their vast height, is more like an atmospheric than an organic phenomenon. The effect is heightened by the loneliness and utter silence, by the deepening shadows. Night sinks as they sink, but the moon is now becoming luminous, and the swish and 'coo-ee, hook-a-coo-ee' of peewits is about one on one's way back, over the heath."
I will conclude this fragment of my rook diary by giving a list of some of the distinct notes or sounds which I have, at different times, heard the birds utter. It is but a small page out of their vocabulary, but it may, perhaps, serve to draw attention to the great powers of modulation and inflexion which these birds possess. I must confess that the way in which the voice of the rook is usually spoken of makes me wonder. To me it has often seemed as though these birds were really in process of evolving a language. In only a few cases, however, have I been able—or have I thought myself able—to connect a note with any particular act or state of mind. Here is the list:
- Caw (the ordinary "caw" more or less).
- Chĭ-choo, chĭ-choo, chĭ-choo.
- Cha.
- Chug-a, chug-a, chug-a.
- Chug-chaw.
- Chack-a, chack-a.
- Choo (very prolonged).
- Chuck (loud, clear, and distinct).
- Chee-ow (very lengthened).
- Hă-chă ("a" as in "hat").
- Har-char.
- How-chow, or chow-how.
- Hoo, hoo.
- Hook-a-hoo.
- Hook-a-hoo-loo.
- Kwubba-wubba.
- Ow (prolonged, a peculiar musical piping note).
- Polyglot (or something remarkably like it).
- Quar-r-r-r.
- Quor-r-r-r-r-r (very prolonged, and deep, as in remonstrance).
- Quow-yow, or yow-quow.
- Shook, shook, shook (soft and quickly repeated. Have heard it uttered by rooks when flying home belated, after the great majority had settled in the roosting-trees).
- Tchar.
- Tchar-r-r (with a little roll in it).
- Tchu or tew.
- Tchoo-oo (very deep and guttural).
- The peculiar "burring" note (uttered, but by no means always, when the birds swoop down on to trees, especially the roosting-trees. It is not heard very frequently).
- A peculiar sound like a kind of bleat, with a very complaining tone in it.
- A short, sharp, single note, much higher than the ordinary caw.
- A kind of grating scream, much higher than the usual tone.
- A hoarse "mew," or "miaul" almost, as though a rook were trying to imitate a cat, or a cat a rook.
- The liquid castanet-note in the throat, suggesting the "burr," but not quite it.
- Various other curious little sounds in the throat, some of them clicks.
