SOME RAVENS AND THE " SPECTATOR." [To THE EDITOR OF
THE " SPECTATOR."] Sra,—I have read with much interest your correspondent's article " The Raven in the West " in your issue of April 22nd, and thought perhaps the following might interest your readers. I have had many occasions since living here of watching the movements of these extraordinary birds. Their habits corre- spond very much with those of their fellow-kind overseas, but their enemies being fewer here I think they are less rare, and frequently pairs may be seen flying towards the mountains which surround us to their usual haunts for roosting. I was particularly interested in a couple a few years ago when spend- ing a summer holiday on a sacred Buddhists' mountain, some 4,000 feet above sea-level. Just below the bedroom window of the monastery in which I was staying was a Scotch fir tree, and each morning I was awakened by two ravens—very ancient- looking old birds they were—with their conversation, which they always seemed to have just before starting out for the day. Punctually each evening, almost within the same quarter a an hour, these two birds would return, announcing their arrival with a solemn " Caw ! caw ! " Here I was surprised to find that they were welcome inhabitants of the monastery compound, for the priests looked upon them as bringing good fortune to their dwelling and had no wish that they should be disturbed. That, however, is not the feeling on the plains. Many are the superstitions connected with them. Some years ago a girl in our school had to be punished—happily, a very rare necessity!—with the result that she howled for some time. Suddenly a raven announced its arrival on the chimney with solemn notes of warning, and immediately my amah came rushing to me, beseeching that I would immediately go and forgive and comfort the girl, as the raven's presence on the house was the surest sign that a suicide was about to be committed in the compound. I laughed away, as I thought, her superstitious alarms, but found out soon after that she had secretly made •her way to the school and pacified the girl herself.
I love all birds, but my love for the raven has been tried to its utmost this week. Within our garden we had lovely fledglings of the golden-neck crane—a very rare bird in this Province—also of doves, blackbirds and bulbuls. Whilst in my classroom I was arrested by the cry of two of the enemy, and made my way out quickly to send them away. I returned happily, thinking I had been in time to save our little friends, but alas! only for a time, for by the next morning I found each little "home" empty and the compound filled with the cries and wailings of the mother birds. Never were my regrets greater for having left my gun behind me when coming to China. I was comforted next day by proofs of the bulbuls' confidence in our love and care for them, for I found they had again started building on a pomegranate shrub only a few yards from the dining-room window, and where I think they must have known I could have an eye upon them. May I also take this opportunity of sending my grateful thanks to the Spectator for all that it has given me through its columns. I have been a more or less regular reader for some twenty years, fifteen of which have been spent in Taichow, and it comes to me, through a friend, as a weekly mental feast. In seeking to train the characters of our girls the Bible is my chief text-book, second to that is the Spectator.—I am, Sir, &c.,
N. A. Lau/ .
C.M.S. Girls' School, Taichow, Chekiang, China, June 12th.