_Cluck_ means Chicken, _Cluck-Cluck_ two Chickens. Two Crows together indicate a Rooster.

_Ah-Ah_ shows deep astonishment, mingled with pain.

_Ker-Cluck_, from its root derivation, would mean _Dog-Chicken_. In other words, a lower form of Chicken, something which is smaller and equally edible. Also, onomatopoetically, a Frog.

_Caw-Ker_ means the best thing of its kind, whatever it may be. Students of philology will note the resemblance to an Aryan word still common among the lower orders of English-speaking peoples.

_Ah-Ker_ means a sore place. Example, a broken leg or aching tooth.

It will be seen that the language is very condensed and in a few syllables may epitomise an entire conversation. For instance:
“_Caw. Caw-Caw. Haw. Ker-Ker. Haw-Haw. Cluck-Cluck. Caw-Ker._”
Freely translated, this runs as follows: “Good morning! How do you find yourself this morning? Don’t get excited, that two-legged thing is only a Man with an umbrella. There is a sick Horse in yonder field that I have my weather eye on, also a dead Donkey. Two Dogs are watching, and there are a couple of nice Chickens that appear to be spring broilers, trotting peacefully around the farmyard. The Horse is a Donkey, too; wouldn’t that make you sick? Nevertheless, those two Chickens are corkers and I intend to have them before my feathers turn white with old age and theirs fall out for the same reason.”

From this brief instruction, the intelligent reader will be able to translate the Crow language. Just here, perhaps, I ought to mention the fact that I gave Jim an anæsthetic one day and slit his tongue, hoping that he could speak English. Some of our words, as is well known, are tongue-twisters. Whether it was to spite me or not, I shall never know, but I record the painful fact that Jim never learned any English except my last name. Whenever I did anything that displeased him, he would shriek out “SITDOWN!” in a loud, compelling tone that I invariably and instinctively obeyed. Then, with a merry laugh, he would flutter off over the trees to tell his friends about it.

When a Crow sings, it reminds you of a cornet half full of molasses. They only sing when they are courting, which is extremely fortunate. If I were a lady Crow, wooed with song, I should take vows of eternal celibacy. They may not be saddest when they sing, but other people are.

I shot one of them one day, when they were doing too much singing, and the 

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