"Quoth The Raven ..."

The raven in Edgar Allen Poe's poem of that name, which goes on repeating to his uneasy if not distraught host the one word "…

The raven in Edgar Allen Poe's poem of that name, which goes on repeating to his uneasy if not distraught host the one word "Nevermore" may not be alone as the one talker of his species. Ravens not only mimic other birds, train-whistles and the jingle of bells, but Douglas Chadwick in a recent National Geographic magazine declares that, like parrots, they will learn to imitate our speech. He even tells us that some people have told him of being startled when a raven alighted nearby and spoke to them in human phrases. To which he comments "Hmmm." The raven, corvus corax, is distinguished from other crows by its size: wingspan of four feet, by its wedge-shaped tail in flight; and it may weigh up to four pounds. David Cabot figures we have about 3,500 nesting pairs in Ireland. They build in cliffs or abandoned quarries, sometimes in trees. A couple from the midlands often see of an evening, while they are out gardening, a pair flying northwards before dusk. The ravens will divert to pass directly overhead and give a friendly croak, a sort of casual "howya."

The man in the National Geo- graphic tells us how cute they are at untying knots, undoing zips and even opening Velcro fastening. Always use straps in raven country, he advises. They live for decades and must go on learning. Diverse diet: worms, insects, grains, berries, nuts, which they break open on stones, like thrushes with snails.

They thieve from other hunters. And always carrion. They may drop clods on nesting birds such as kittiwakes to scare off the sitters and steal the eggs. Smart. They have been known to kill new-born sheep and seals, usually by pecking out the eyes. A biologist of Vermont University tests their acuteness by putting a snake or frog (at various times) into one end of a pipe. The young ravens watch, then run round to wait at the other end. A raven has been seen eating groceries out of a brown paper sack on the back of a speeding truck.

Chadwick says he owes his life to a raven. He was driving up a mountain road when "the sudden passage of a shouting raven left me unsettled enough that I slowed down and pulled towards the shoulder a bit. A moment later a logging truck came roaring into view on the wrong side of the curve ahead. Had I not already moved aside, the hurtling truck would probably have killed me. Though I realise this only proves that big talkative birds naturally compel our attention, I still owe a raven my life." Y