[11] _Essays on Natural History._ First Series, p. 109.

Plumage black with purple reflections; tail rounded, black, extending two inches beyond the closed wings; beak strong, black as well as the feet; iris with two circles, the inner grey, the outer ash-brown. Length twenty-five inches; width four feet. Eggs dirty green, spotted and speckled with brown.

British Birds in their Haunts — Part 75

The Raven, the largest of the Corvidæ, and possessing in an eminent degree all the characteristics of its tribe except sociability, is the bird which beyond all others has been regarded with feelings of awe by the superstitious in all ages. In both instances in which specific mention of it occurs in Holy Writ, it is singled out from among other birds as gifted with a mysterious intelligence. Sent forth by Noah when the ark rested on the mountains of Ararat, it perhaps found a congenial home among the lonely crags strewed with the carcases of drowned animals, and by failing to return, announced to the patriarch that a portion of the earth, though not one fit for his immediate habitation, was uncovered by the waters. At a subsequent period, honoured with the mission of supplying the persecuted prophet with food, it was taught to suppress its voracious instinct by the God who gave it. The Raven figures prominently in most heathen mythologies, and is almost everywhere regarded with awe by the ignorant even at the present time. In Scandinavian mythology it was an important actor; and all readers of Shakespeare must be familiar with passages which prove it to have been regarded as a bird of dire omen.

British Birds in their Haunts — Part 75

The sad presaging Raven tolls The sick man's passport in her hollow beak. And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wing.

British Birds in their Haunts — Part 75

In the Judgment of others, its friendly mission to the Tishbite invested it with a sanctity which preserved it from molestation.

Apart from all traditional belief, the Raven derives its ill-omened character as a herald of death from the rapidity with which it discerns, in the vicinity of its haunts, the carcase of any dead animal. In the coldest winter days, at Hudson's Bay, when every kind of effluvium is greatly checked if not arrested by frost, buffaloes and other beasts have been killed when not one of these birds was to be seen; but in a few hours scores of them have been found collected about the spot to pick up the blood and offal. 'In Ravens', says a writer in the _Zoologist_,'the senses of smell and sight are remarkably acute and powerful. Perched usually on some tall cliff that commands a wide survey, these faculties are in constant and rapid exercises, and all the movements of the bird are regulated in accordance with the information thus procured. The smell of death is so grateful to them that they utter a loud croak of satisfaction instantly on perceiving it. In passing any sheep, if a tainted smell is perceptible, they cry vehemently. From this propensity in the Raven to announce his satisfaction in the smell of death has probably arisen the common notion that he is aware of its approach among the human race, and foretells it by his croakings.' The same observant author, as quoted by Macgillivray, says again: 'Their sight and smell are very acute, for when they are searching the wastes for provision, they hover over them at a great height; and yet a sheep will not be dead many minutes before they will find it. Nay, if a morbid smell transpire from any in the flock, they will watch it for days till it die.'