I got down to catch it. Then I
discovered it was only tame. I could approach to within a foot of
reaching it. Once it perched upon a low snag, and peeped at me with
little bright dark eyes, very friendly, as if he liked my company. I sat
there within a few feet of him for quite a while. We resumed our ride.
Crossing a fresh buck track caused us to dismount, and tie our horses.
But that buck was too wary for us. We returned to camp as usual, empty
handed as far as game was concerned.
I forgot to say anything to Haught or Doyle about the black and gray
bird that had so interested me. Quite a coincidence was it then to see
another such bird and that one right in camp. He appeared to be as tame
as the other. He flew and hopped around camp in such a friendly manner
that I placed a piece of meat in a conspicuous place for him. Not long
was he in finding it. He alighted on it, and pecked and pulled at a
great rate. Doyle claimed it was a Clark crow, named after one of the
Lewis and Clark expedition. "It's a rare bird," said Doyle. "First one
I've seen in thirty years." As Doyle spent most of his time in the open
this statement seemed rather remarkable.
We had frost on two mornings, temperature as low as twenty-six degrees,
and then another change indicative of unsettled weather. It rained, and
sleeted, and then snowed, but the ground was too wet to hold the snow.
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