While my brother and I were on the dock at Clinton, Washington, waiting for the ferry to come and take us from Whidbey Island back to the mainland, we were watching a flock of seagulls enjoying some delicacies at the far end of a perpendicular, lower dock. Now and then some crows came to try to partake of the meal, but were chased off by the seagulls.
So the murder (group) of crows gathered together at our end of the dock, and cawed their secret plans to each other. A few minutes later, one solitary crow walked the length of the little dock, right up to the gorging flock of seagulls. Before this bold fellow could get to the food, the entire flock of seagulls went at him, and the crow took off flying. The seagulls were so insulted by the crow's insolence that they all took off after him, leaving the food unguarded.
The murder of crows then casually went over and helped themselves, eating to their heart's content, while their yokefellow in the sky skillfully outflew the suckered seagulls.
No wonder old salts of the sea have such fanciful tales and stories of great sea battles and heroism. The wonders of life and daring and adventure are illustrated to them each day.
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