(610)
COURTS OF JUSTICE AMONG BIRDS
Dr. Edmondson describes regular assemblies of crows of the hooded species—“crow courts,” they are called—which are held at certain intervals in the Shetland Isles. A particular hill or field suitable for the business is selected, but nothing is done till all are ready, and consequently the earlier comers have sometimes to wait for a day or two till the others arrive. When all have come, the court opens in a formal manner and the presumed criminals are arraigned at the bar. A general croaking and clamor are raised by the assembly and judgment is delivered, apparently, by the whole court. As soon as the execution is over, the court breaks up and all its members disperse quietly. An Alpine tourist relates that, during an excursion in the Swiss mountains, he accidently came upon a small secluded glen, which was surrounded by trees, and became the unexpected witness of a singular spectacle. About sixty or seventy ravens were ranged in a ring around one of their fellows, evidently reputed a culprit, and with much clatter of tongues and wings, were engaged in discussing his alleged delinquencies. At intervals they paused in their debate in order to permit the accused to reply, which he did most vociferously and with intense energy, but all his expostulations were speedily drowned in a deafening chorus of dissent. Eventually the court appears to have arrived at the unanimous conclusion that the felon had utterly failed to exculpate himself, and they suddenly flew at him from all sides and tore him to pieces, with their powerful beaks. Having executed their sentence, they speedily disappeared.—The Popular Science Monthly.
(611)
Covenant—See [Blood, The Tie of].
COWARDICE
We see by the following account of English sparrows that any coward may seem brave when he is with the majority:
The English sparrow has been called pugnacious. He is nothing of the kind. He does not love a fight. Bird to bird, there is nothing too small to whip him. I have seen a chipping sparrow, which is the least among the pasture sparrows, send the poltroon scurrying to shelter with all his feathers standing on end. A cock bluebird, fighting like a gentleman, and like a gentleman fighting only when he must, will drive a half-dozen of them. The English sparrow has the true instincts of the browbeating coward, and loves to fight only when in overwhelming numbers he may attack a lone pasture bird without danger to himself.—Winthrop Packard, “Wild Pastures.”
(612)
Craziness Indicated—See [Concert, Lack of].