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Then I have a pair of the Common Crane, which once was

a native of Great Britian, and which is becoming almost as rare

in Europe—more’s the pity—as it has become in England.


Smaller, considerably, than the species already described,

but extremely graceful. Dark grey bodies, with black and

white running down the neck, and scarlet skin on the heads, the

distinctive feature of the plumage being the black cock-like

plumes of the elongated wing feathers, drooping over the tail.

They too have a wild sounding, trumpeting note, and they too

can be familiar and fierce, if they like.


But the smallest of all the Cranes is my fifth species, the

lovely Deitioiselle of Africa, India and different parts of Asia.

Delicate pearl grey bodies, with long pointed wing feathers

hanging over the tail, and black feathers depending in a point in

front of the neck, rather like the ends of a lady’s boa. Besides

which, this dainty bird is ornamented with silvery white ear-

tufts, growing in a graceful curve on either side of the head, and

bending round to the neck. I wonder which learnt to dance first,

men or Cranes? Cranes, I expect. They are ballet dancers

from their birth, or, if they don’t practise as soon as that, at

least their steps and attitudes come to them naturally.


It is supposed that they are the most ancient living

representatives of bird-life, and many a poet of older days has

written about them. Virgil and Homer, par excellence.


A flight of three or four hundred Cranes is a grand sight,

their weird trumpetings sounding from afar, before ever they

come into view.


As fine a species as any is the larger Sams Crane, in which

the head and a large portion of the neck is scarlet with the

curious bare skin, and the plumage is delicate French grey. A

very tall and stately personage.


The Cranes at our Zoological Gardens need more space,

and more artistic surroundings, which is, no doubt, difficult to

give them. They don’t look well enclosed in small paddocks,

with a meagre asphalted pool in which to put their toes. They

want a place something like the duck ponds, with stretches of

open lawn, and groups of rushes and reeds. Above all they

want fresh country air, where grimy London soots and smoky

atmosphere cannot besmirch their naturally pure colouring and

smooth plumage. There is a great difference between a country

Crane and a town one, to the latter’s disadvantage.


Some species breed fairly readily in captivity, especially

the Great White and Black Man tellurians, and to this event I



