I’ll bet crows know more about us than we do about them.
My son would take the schoolbus home & be let off at the top of the hill near our house. I’d usually end up waiting 5-10 min up there, pacing back & forth until he arrived. One day, I noticed a dead crow in the road. Mindful of West Nile Virus, I walked up to the crow to see if I could tell if it died violently or by illness. However when I got about 4′ away, a murder of crows (how exciting to actually use that in a sentence) flew around me, screaming & dive-bombing my head. I retreated to a safe distance. Each day for 3 days, the body lay there & neither I nor any passersby could get close to it. Then the crow body disappeared after a weekend. However even after the body was gone, if I got too close to where it had lain, they would still squak & scream, mourning, I am convinced, a member of their family.
A Ballard Matron
(The material of the following post predates the 1300 century, when the dry compass came into use in European sea navigation. Here the writer uses the word ‘Crow’ for the more modern, Raven.)
Amgrin Jonas tells us, that when FLOK, a famous Norwegian Navigator, was going to set out from Shetland for Iceland, then call Gardarsholm, he took on board some Crows, because the Mariner’s Compass was not yet in Use. When he thought he had made a considerable progress, he threw up one of his Crows, which, seeing Land astern, flew to it; whence FLOK, concluding that he was nearer to Shetland (perhaps rather Faroe) then any other Land, kept on his Course for some time, and then sent out another Crow, which, seeing no Land at all, returned to the Vessel. At last, having run the greatest part of his Way, a third Crow was sent out, which, seeing Land a-head, immediately flew for it; and FLOK, following his Guide, fell in with the East and of the Island. Such was the simple mode of steering their Course, practiced by these bold Navigators of the stormy Northern Ocean.
―The ancient Natives of Taprobané (Ceylon) used the same expedient when skimming along the tranquil surface of the Indian Ocean.
―‘Rural Sports.’ Volumes III. by Thomas Davison, Whitfriars, 1812.