There are few birds that can compare with the Raven in the majestic curves and sweeps of its flight as it skirts the wild and rugged headland which forms its home, so that in spite of its occasional depredations on young and sickly lambs, it is unworthy of the persecution to which it is subjected. Scattered pairs are still to be met with round the rocky shores of England, while in the wilder parts of Scotland and Ireland it is still comparatively common. It chooses for its home some wild precipitous crag exposed to the fury of the south-westerly gales, and there it may be found at all times of year, ruling with uncontested sway some couple of miles of coast, where it feeds on any carrion or prey that can be found.

Early in the spring the old nest—a mass of sticks, driftwood, seaweed, and heather, warmly lined with wool and rabbit fleck—will be repaired, and at this season the male is magnificent to watch as he courts his mate in beautiful aerial flight. Early in March the eggs, three to five in number, are laid; they are bluish, densely speckled and blotched with olive brown. The female takes sole charge of the duties of incubation, while her mate, sitting near, keeps close watch and attacks with great boldness and fury any other feathered marauder.

Too often, however, their labours are in vain and man steps in and destroys the nest; but ever faithful to the old home, many pairs continue ineffectually to breed year after year near the same spot, till at last in their old age they succumb to some winter’s storm and the spot is the poorer by the loss of one of our noblest birds.

After the young are fledged they remain with their parents for some months, till they are eventually driven out to make way for the new brood of the following year.