"'The young rooks are much more timid and not so successful. They settle
on the branch and knock down a great many walnuts in their clumsy
attempts to secure one. Even when the walnut has been obtained, the
young rook is not sure of his prize: one of his older and stronger
brethren is very likely to attack him and knock the walnut out of his
bill. Then, by a dextrous swoop, the robber catches it up before it
reaches the ground, and carries it off in triumph. The feasting ground
of the rooks is the next field, and here they come to eat their walnuts.
They crack the shell with their beaks and devour the kernel with great
relish. Then, when one walnut is finished, they fly back to the tree for
another. There is no chance for the owner of the garden, who does not
think it worth while even to shake his tree: he knows there will not be
a single walnut left.'"
"I should think not, with those greedy creatures," exclaimed Malcolm.
"Why doesn't the man shoot 'em?"
"He probably thinks it would be of little use, when there are such
numbers of the birds; besides, he may prefer losing his walnuts to
disturbing them, for rooks are treated with great consideration in
England, and there is no such wholesale destruction of birds as is
seen here."
The rooks were certainly very comical, and the children thought this
little account of their antics over the walnut tree the next best thing
to a story.
"Another fine shade-tree," continued Miss Harson, "and one very much
like the black walnut, is the butternut, or oil-nut, tree.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186