neighbourhood ; and, though growing more and more wary (if
possible) each time they are fired at, and disappearing for a day
or two from any " jhfl," where an attempt has been made to
kill or capture them, they never seem to forsake the locality until
the change of temperature warns them to retreat to their cool
northern homes. Week after week I have noticed and
repeatedly fired at, sometimes even slightly wounded, particular
birds, which have nevertheless remained about the place their
full time—nay, I have twice now killed the young bird early in
the season, and the parents, one by one, at intervals of nearly a
couple of months.
The Buhelias, a native caste of fowlers, (and, I fear I must
add, thieves) of whom there are many in the neighbourhood,
and who are keen observers of all wild animals, assured me that,
as far back as any of them could remember (namely, for at least
the previous fifty years), parties of the White Crane, or as they
call them " jsarekhurs"* have been in the habit of yearly spending
their winters in the same locality.
Though occasionally seen in larger flocks, it is usual to find
either a pair of old ones accompanied by a single young one,
or small parties of five or six, which then, as far as I can
judge, consist exclusively of birds of the second year.
The fully adult birds are even, when they first arrive, of snowy
whiteness, and each pair is, almost without exception, accompanied
by a young one, which, when first seen, is of a sandy or
buffy tint throughout, and very noticeably smaller than its
parents. The males are considerably larger and heavier than
the females, the adults of the former weighing up to icilbs., but
of the latter only, as far as my experience goes, to about i61bs.
* Professor Max Muller justly ridicules the excessive length to which what he
denominates the " bow-wow theory" of the origin of words, lias been pushed by
some comparative etymologists; but, in the case of the Cranes, the Hindu names
in use, in this portion of Northern India, clearly owe their origin to the cries of the
several birds. Thus Grits communis is called "Kooroonch" or " Koorch"
AnlhropoiiUs virgo, " Kurrkurra" and G. ieitcogcranus, " Karckhur" each of these
names, when pronounced by a native, conveying to my idea an appreciable imitalion
of the cry of the particular species it serves to designate. Not so, however, thinks
Mr. Brooks..He says :—" With regard to the notes of Grus leucogeramts how the native
can imagine that their name ' Karekhur,' or, as I should call it, ' Carecur,' expresses
any one of them, I cannot conceive. The notes are all simply whistles, from a
mellow one to a peculiar feeble shrill shivering whistle, if I may so express it. No
written word will express the note of this species, nor give the faintest idea of it.
I watched a flock of these fine birds for a long time, yesterday, as they fed in a marsh,
in company with about a dozen of G. antigone three of G cintrta. I found it
impossible to get within shot of the White Cranes, nor could I get them driven over
me as I sat in ambush ; for. as soon as they take wing, they immediately begin to
soar, and circle round and round till they attain a height far above the reach of any
shot ; they then fly straight away, uttering their peculiar whistle, which, though weak,
compared with the call of other Cranes, can still be heard a mile off, or even more.
It is a magnificent bird, and I think, the most graceful of the group in its attitudes.
The species is abundant, being found in large flocks ; and the eggs might be obtained
from Russian sources. The plumage is so very compact and Swan-like that it must
go very far north to breed, where perhaps its snowy plumage harmonizes with the
'-nil unmelted snow as it sits upon its nest."
Of the young birds, however, when they first arrive, the males
do not exceed about iofts. in weight, and the females gibs.,
though generally very fat and well cared for by the parents.
When we first see them, they cannot, I estimate, be more
than six months' old. The testes and ovaria of adults, examined
on the 20th of March, were still, if I may use the term, quite
dormant ; and allowing for the " passage home," the pairing
season, and incubation, they can scarcely hatch off before the
middle of May.
They never appear to have more than one young one with
them; but it does not at all follow that they do not lay more
than one egg. The Sarus, which usually lays two, and sometimes,
though rarely, three eggs, and which has no long or arduous
journey to perform, constantly fails to rear more than one
young one.
The watchful care and tender solicitude evinced by the old
birds for their only child is most noticeable. They never
suffer the young one to stray from their side ; and, while
they themselves are rarely more than thirty yards apart,
and generally much closer, the young, I think, is invariably
somewhere between them. If either bird find a particularly
promising rush tuft, it will call the little one to its
side, by a faint creaking cry, and watch it eating, every now
and then affectionately running its long bill through the young
one's feathers. If, as sometimes happens, the young only be
shot, the old birds, though rising in the air with many cries,
will not leave the place, but for hours after keep circling round
and round high out of gun or even rifle shot, and for many days
afterwards will return apparently disconsolately seeking their
lost treasure.
Like the Sarus, these birds pair, I think, for life ; at any rate
a pair, whose young one was shot last year, and both of whom
were subsequently wounded about the legs, so as to make
them very recognizable, appeared again this year, accompanied
by a young one, and were at once noticed as being our wary
friends of the past year, by both the native fowlers and myself.
I was glad to see they were none the worse for their swollen,
crooked, bandy legs, and this year at least they have got safe
home, I hope, with their precious charge.
Throughout their sojourn here, the young remain as closely
attached to their parents as when they first arrived, but doubtless
by the time the party return to their northern homes,
the young are dismissed, with a blessing, to shift for themselves.
Long before they leave, the rich buff or sandy colour has
begun to give place to the white of the adult plumage, and the
faces and foreheads, which (as in the Common Crane) are
feathered in the young, have begun to grow bare. This, I
notice, seems to result from the barbs composing the vanes of