"I inquired why the crows ought to go to sleep on the top of the Calvinist church of all places in the world.
"'Let the Calvinist crow stick to the top of the Calvinist church, and the Papist crow to the top of the Papist church, as is meet and right,' he explained.
"I did not understand this sectarian distinction among crows, but the gipsy made it quite plain to me.
"'One sort of crow is ashen grey, another sort black. The grey sort eats no flesh, but only grain; that is the Papist crow. The black sort lives on flesh, whether it be earthworms or fallen horse; that is the Calvinist crow, for it keeps no fast-days.'
"Then he called my attention to the fact that on the hill there straight before us, a whole army of crows was making a great commotion. At one moment they rose high into the air with loud croakings, at another they descended upon the self-same spot from which they had risen. 'There must be carrion,' he said.
"When we got to the top of the hill, we saw, to our great consternation, that the evil foreboding of the gipsy was correct.
"On the highway below, by the side of the ditch, lay a big black mass, the carcase of a fallen horse, and fighting over what remained of it was a whole army of crows and ravens and five large wolves.
"We were about five hundred paces from the terrible beasts.
"They immediately perceived us, and, leaving the carcase, forthwith began scudding towards us, spurring each other on with their nasty short sharp yelps.
"'Alas, alas! It is all up with us now!' wailed the contra-bass. 'The wolves will eat us up.'