Something bright dropped from the excited flock, and a single crow swooped after it; but I was too much interested in the rush to note what became of him.  The clamor ceased abruptly.  The crows, after a short practice in rising, falling, and wheeling to command, settled in the pines on both sides of the field, where they had been before.  And there in the hickory was another crow with the same bright, flashing thing in his beak.

There was a long wait this time, as if for a breathing spell.  Then the solitary crow came skimming down the field again without warning.  The flock surrounded him on the moment, with the evident intention of hindering his flight as much as possible.  They flapped their wings in his face; they zig-zagged in front of him; they attempted to light on his back.  In vain he twisted and dodged and dropped like a stone.  Wherever he turned he found fluttering wings to oppose his flight.  The first object of the game was apparent:  he was trying to reach the goal of pines opposite the hickory, and the others were trying to prevent it.  Again and again the leader was lost to sight; but whenever the sunlight flashed from the bright thing he carried, he was certain to be found in the very midst of a clamoring crowd.  Then the second object was clear:  the crows were trying to confuse him and make him drop the talisman.

[Illustration]

They circled rapidly down the field and back again, near the watcher.  Suddenly the bright thing dropped, reaching the ground before it was discovered.  Three or four crows swooped upon it, and a lively scrimmage began for its possession.  In the midst of the struggle a small crow shot under the contestants, and before they knew what was up he was scurrying away to the hickory with the coveted trinket held as high as he could carry it, as if in triumph at his sharp trick.

The flock settled slowly into the pines again with much hawing.  There was evidently a question whether the play ought to be allowed or not.  Everybody had something to say about it; and there was no end of objection.  At last it was settled good-naturedly, and they took places to watch till the new leader should give them opportunity for another chase.

There was no doubt left in the watcher’s mind by this time as to what the crows were doing.  They were just playing a game, like so many schoolboys, enjoying to the full the long bright hours of the September afternoon.  Did they find the bright object as they crossed the pasture on the way from Farmer B’s corn-field, and the game so suggest itself?  Or was the game first suggested, and the talisman brought afterwards?  Every crow has a secret storehouse, where he hides every bright thing he finds.  Sometimes it is a crevice in the rocks under moss and ferns; sometimes the splintered end of a broken branch; sometimes a deserted owl’s nest in a hollow tree; often a crotch in a big pine, covered carefully by brown needles; but wherever it is, it is full of bright things—­glass, and china, and beads, and tin, and an old spoon, and a silvered buckle—­and nobody but the crow himself knows how to find it.  Did some crow fetch his best trinket for the occasion, or was this a special thing for games, and kept by the flock where any crow could get it?