about the fields, even though at a fair height above the trees; their powers of flight in each case seem of a very different kind. They can also soar to some extent, rising higher and higher on outspread wings as they sweep round and round in irregular circles—like gulls, but far less perfectly, and they have to flap the wings more often. Add to this their downward-rushing swoops, their twists, turns, tumbles, zig-zaggings, and all manner of erratic aerial evolutions, and it must be conceded that the powers of flight which they possess are beyond those with which we generally associate them in our mind.
Seen thus, trooping homewards, in all their many moods and veins,
"Whether they take Cervantes' serious air,
Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy-chair,"
their flight, combined with their multitude, is full of effects. To-day their widely extended bands were often, like so many black snowstorms filling a great part of the sky. But at no time did I see anything resembling leadership. "The many wintered crow that leads the clanging rookery home" is—a lovely line. On no other occasion could I make out that rooks obeyed or followed any recognised leader, and I came to a similar negative conclusion in regard to the question of their employment of sentinels. It is asserted in various works—for instance, in the latest edition of Chambers's "Encyclopedia"—that they do post sentinels. I will give two instances of their not doing so—as I concluded—and my experience was the same on other occasions, which I did not think it worth while to note.
