Under the influence of Christian teaching Odin gradually became identified throughout northern Europe with Satan: so the raven and all the Corvidae are now “Devil’s birds” in the folklore of the North. Even the magpie is said to have devils’ blood in its tongue, and its chattering is ominous of evil, requiring various rustic charms to counteract its harm—in fact, if the farmer-folk are correctly informed, virtually all the birds of this family was naturally tainted with deviltry. It is not surprising then to hear that European crows go down to hell once every year, when they must appear before Old Nick and give him a tribute of feathers. The time of this visit coincides with their moulting-season in midsummer, when the crows retire and remain inconspicuous and silent for a time—so maybe it’s true!
An extraordinary survival of this last notion—unless it be original—is found among the negroes of some of our Southern States, who say that the “jaybird” (bluejay) is never to be seen on Friday, because on that day he is carrying sticks to the Devil in hell; that in general this bird is the Devil’s messenger and spy; and that the reason he is so gay and noisy on Saturday is that he is so glad to get back to earth. An old Georgia darky explained the matter a follows:
“Some folks say Br’er Jay takes a piece er wood, des a splinter, down to de bad Place ev’y Friday fer ter help out Mister Devil, so’s to let him ’n’ his wife, ole Aunty Squatty, have good kindlin’ wood all de time.... But some folks tell de tale ’nother way. Dey say he make dat trip ever’ Friday ter tote down des a grit er dirt. He make de trip sho’. Ever’body knows dat. But for what he goes folks tells diffunt tales. You sho’ly can’t see a jay bird in dis worl’ on Friday fum twelve o’clock twel three—hit takes ’em des dat long ter make de trip.... Some folks say Bre’r Jay and all his fambly, his folks, his cousins, and his kin, does go dat way and d’rection, ev’y one totin’ dey grain o’ sand in der bill an’ drappin’ hit in—des one teeny weeny grit—wid de good hopes er fillin’ up dat awful place.”[2]
Louisiana negroes are of the opinion that the jay is condemned to this weekly trip as a punishment for misbehavior at Christ’s crucifixion, but what dreadful deed he did has been forgotten. Every reader of “Uncle Remus,” or of the stories of Mrs. Ruth McEnery Stuart, Mr. Harry Stillwell Edwards, and other Southern writers, knows how largely the “jaybird” figures in the plantation-tales of the negroes, especially of the coastal districts, where the bluejay is one of the most conspicuous and interesting of resident birds.