“One accustomed to the shrewdness and prudence of Crows in populous districts is at first surprised at an apparent familiarity the Raven often shows in the West. There no one would think of wasting ammunition on the worthless bird, and it comes to look upon man more as its provider than as an enemy. Nevertheless, like the rest of its tribe, the Raven is a sagacious bird, not likely to be twice deceived, and very ready to take a hint; he always has his wits about him, and keeps a bright lookout when anything stranger than a coyote is near. This wariness is something altogether different from the childlike timidity of little birds like Sparrows, that scurry away in terror from any unusual sight or sound, and unquestionably implies keen powers of observation coupled with no small degree of reasoning faculty. Almost every day during the winter of 1864-65 I must have passed within a few paces of Ravens stalking about the fort; and yet, when I wanted a specimen, it was not an easy matter to secure one. The birds assuredly knew the difference between a person going quietly about his business and one “on mischief bent,” and their intelligent watchfulness rendered it quite impossible to approach them openly with gun in hand. “Ravens are resident in the region about Fort Whipple, and their apparently diminished number in summer is simply due to the fact that they are then spread over a greater surface, are less restless, and better provided for in the matter of food. In winter, and especially when snow covered the ground, their numbers at the fort were simply incalculable. They dotted the ground everywhere during the day, and roosted in crowds on the neighboring pines by night. One patriarchal tree, that stood somewhat isolated, was a favorite resting-place for the Ravens and Buzzards, and gradually assumed a singular appearance, as if it had been whitewashed. This great pine overlooked a little open space where our beeves were slaughtered, and the banqueting there was never ended. All night long the wolves howled and barked as they tugged at the offal, till daylight sent them reluctant to their rocky fastnesses, when the great dark birds, with a premonitory stretching of the wings, flapped down to renew the feast. The Ravens and Buzzards seemed to get along very well together, quarrelling no more with each other than each species did with its own kind; but in the occasional disputes the smaller birds seemed to have rather the advantage of the heavier and clumsier gluttons. This comparative good-fellowship was in striking contrast to the behavior of Crows towards Turkey Buzzards.