176 NATURAL HISTORY. 



exactly all the houses in the place where the inhabitants had once given them anything, and never 

 omitted to pay them a daily visit. Without the slightest timidity they entered the lower rooms 

 of our house, often remaining there some time, and feeding out of the same dish with a very large 

 Pointer. I fed them three times a day, and they were thoroughly aware when this took place. They 

 arrived at the proper time, and announced themselves by screaming. If the time seemed too long 

 they marched into the kitchen and waited by the fire until their dinner was ready. They would 

 accompany me and others in our walks, following us like dogs ; sometimes taking a flight they gam- 

 bolled about in the air, alighting occasionally, and then continued to accompany us. It was a pleasure 

 to have these charming creatures about us." One of them having perished by an accident, the sur- 

 vivor consoled himself by a greater activity of life. " As it was out of my power," continues the 

 narrator, " to replace the loss he had sustained by another of his own species, he helped himself. He 

 chose a fresh companion, with whom he contracted a new friendship, which still exists. You will 

 hardly imagine the one he chose from among the many creatures surrounding him. It was none other 

 than a bull on our estate. How, and from what reason, the friendship sprang up, I cannot exactly 

 make out, though it appears to me that the bull's loud bass voice produced some especial effect. To be 

 brief, the two became fast friends ere spring time ; the Crane accompanies his horned favourite daily 

 to the pastures, and daily visits him in the stable. He treats him always with the most marked 

 deference, and evidently considers him as his superior. In his stable he stands respectful and erect by 

 his friend, as though obliged to await his orders, keeps the flies off him, answers when he roars, and 

 takes every possible means to pacify his friend when enraged. When the bull is among the cattle in 

 the yard he plays the part of adjutant, generally walking about two paces in his rear, often dancing 

 round him, bowing respectfully, and, in fact, behaving in so droll and comical a manner that no one 

 could look on without laughing. In the afternoon he follows the bull and the whole herd to the 

 meadows, a distance of more than two miles, and returns with them in the evening. The bird gene- 

 rally follows some few paces in the rear of his friend, or else walks alongside of him, or suddenly pre- 

 cedes him and runs on twenty yards or more, and then, turning round, bows down before his august 

 companion until the latter has come up with him. These proceedings are carried on through the whole 

 village, to the intense amusement of the inhabitants, until the farmyard is reached, when, after 

 repeated bows and demonstrations of affection, he takes leave of his respected companion." After 

 relating how the Crane reigned supreme in the poultry-yard, and even took the horses and foals in 

 hand and kept them in trim, the story continues : " He keeps the cows and oxen in order, both in 

 the yai'd and in the fields, and assists to drive them backwards and forwards, and always separates 

 them if they take to butting one another. If they refuse to obey, he tries the effect of his loud ringing 

 voice, which generally so alarms them that they speedily take to flight. In the fields he keeps the 

 herd together, and prevents their getting into mischief. One evening he brought home, unaided, a 

 whole herd of heifers, and drove them into the stables. This bird has undertaken so many jobs that 

 he is employed the whole day long. Recently he returned to his other duties, after having assisted in 

 driving the village herd of cattle to the pasture. In passing through the hamlet he found some heifers 

 belonging to the herd which had remained behind, whereupon he instantly set about driving them down 

 to those in the meadows. He drove them safely through the village, but frightened them so with his 

 screams and blows with the beak, that they ran away, and took the contrary direction to where the 

 rest of the herd had gone. He ran quickly after them to try and bring them back, but to no purpose. 

 The chase continued for over two miles, finishing in a field of corn belonging to the neighbouring 

 village, where the cattle and their feathered herdsman were pounded : the latter, however, would not 

 allow himself to be caught, but returned home, disconsolate at his want of success. ... To us he 

 behaves in a most polite and amiable manner. When hungry, he generally presents himself under my 

 mother's window, as she is exceedingly fond of him, and feeds him several times during the day. Here 

 he calls ; if he is not heard he enters the house, calling louder and louder, till at last he takes refuge in. 

 the kitchen, where he seeks his friend and caterer, the cook, to whom he details his requirements. He 

 shows his pleasure at her appearance by uttering the familiar cry, Coor, coor, coor, coor, and makes her 

 understand, by all manner of antics, how he wishes to be fed. If he wants bits of bread from the hand, 

 which is his principal food, he points to it with his beak ; should he, however, wish to be fed on the 

 floor, he lays a piece down there, and then she must throw all the rest there. This bird always shows 



