American Crow
April 25, 1936
(Crovus Brachyrhynchos) Last week my theme was the nesting of the great horned owl, near Saskatoon, and perhaps some of those who read the article may wish to know the untimely fate of the nest.
During the early part of the week several photographs were taken of the nest and eggs, with the result that the owl slightly frightened by our noisy methods left the nest and flew to a neighbouring bluff to be pounced upon by that scourge of all owls, a flock of crows. After the expedition had left the vicinity of the nest, the owls were prevented from returning by the howling, squawking mob who followed them in hot pursuit. Then a rash crow, passing over the vacant nest, saw the tempting eggs below and taking advantage of the owl’s distraction spiralled slowly to the nest and smashed the eggs, gorging himself on the half developed young, a deed that the coward would never have attempted had not the owner of the nest been at a safe distance. With a satisfied “craw-aw-aw!” the robber slid off the defiled nest, but not quite soon enough, for when we returned a mangled black body lay with the egg shells at the foot of the tree — attesting to a vengeance that should overtake all crows.
The incident, while interesting, has a meaning of importance: for what bird’s eggs are safe from a thief who will rob the mightiest and most feared of the nocturnal hunters.
Last year a friend of mine located a fine ruffled grouse’s nest, containing 14 eggs, and snugly hidden below a dead and fallen poplar. He soon made friends with the bird and she would allow him to approach within two feet of her as she brooded the eggs. According to his reckoning the eggs were about ready to hatch and he was looking forward with keen anticipation to seeing the old grouse leading her brood of tint, downy chicks through the juniper bush. But he never realized his dream for one day he came to the nest and found it deserted, four eggs remaining, but they were cold and damp. In the nearby bushes were the remains of the other 10 with one bloodcovered little chick pulled from the egg and left by the ruthless murderer. My friend was not sure at whose door to lay the blame but as he was leaving a crow settled on the tree above the remnant remaining in the nest, and with a hasty glance around, dropped to the ground and proceeded to destroy the eggs.
Since that time, my friend has carried a lightweight rifle on all his trips and with it has accounted for many of the “black robbers.”
These fine Spring days when we feel the urge to take the guns off their racks and hike into country, turn those twenty-two’s on the crow and get a thrill from dropping one of these criminals of the bird world.
The Government is going ahead with its project of banding crows with numbered tags that, when turned in to them will be worth money. Give them your support!
Remember, a banded crow means money in the pocket.