food, carrying it either to their young or to a spot where they can devour it without interruption. I once saw a Goshawk carrying what I supposed to be a Grouse; this was evidently dead, and sticking out behind the bird, gave it a very curious appearance. Three or four Corbies were high in the air, making from every quarter repeated attacks on the Goshawk, and endeavouring to rob him of his prey. At length one of them was just striking the noble bird, when, relaxing his hold, the dead creature, whatever it might be, fell straight for the earth. The Hawk dived after it with a rapidity perfectly astonishing, and, I think, before it had descended thirty fathoms, struck his talons into it, and bore it safely away from among his angry assailants.
"Nor is this enmity with the Corbie confined to the feathered tribes: sundry of our quadrupeds live in constant warfare with the ill-conditioned fowl. If you see a Corbie hovering and screaming over a linn or athwart the face of a rock, you may be sure that some animal has attracted his attention. Perhaps a fox is basking on a sunny slope; or the wild cat, cautiously seeking a safe footing whence to spring on some unwary bird that has its nest among the cliffs; or perhaps the supple weasel, sporting about, or examining every cranny to find a safe retreat: I have seen the Corbie vexing each of these. The fox will sometimes stretch up his neck and snap at his assailant, when he has made a sudden dive, but the bird eludes the danger, and continues his persecution as before.
"The Corbie, thus feared by some creatures, hated by others, and most especially detested by
