071 the Blue Knorhaan. 141


You may see them and try to stalk them, but at 200 yards

the slim graceful blue neck stiffens, the banded chestnut and

white wings open and with a mocking shout of Knock-me-down !

he is off — for ten miles or more.


In May the cock of my pair started his call note, to which

he always treats us when he is first let .out of his house in the

early morning. He is an excellent indicator of early or late

rising on the part of the Kaffirs whose first duty it is to let the

Knorhaan out into their run.


In December 1905 both my birds had got their plumage in

the most beautiful order and were masters of the companions we

had added to their run, i.e. some Stanley Cranes and Spur-winged

and Egyptian Geese, while a Buff - backed Heron that was

flying at hack around the garden was always a great source of

distraction to them, their object being to keep him on the wing.

Like most bullies they were cowards at heart, and a hen with

chicks sent them shouting off in very quick time.


It was always an amusement to us to drive them across the

garden to the pigeon-house and then to drive the pigeons out of

it and straight at them. This invariably caused consternation

mingled with horror. The little pair would stand rooted to the

ground with wide open beaks and out-spread wings — the hen

would utter a loud squawk, the cock would hoarsely shout his

"Knock-me-down," — and then they would turn tail and run,

with that mincing, pattering, and amazingly swift gait of theirs.


In January 1906, when the birds were just under a year

old, I observed that their legs were changing to a yellowish

colour, and I have no doubt that these birds take at least two

3 r ears to become fully adult.


In February I regret to say that the hen bird — the nearest

in the picture — was murdered in my garden by a neighbour's

dog. We rescued her just alive, poor thing, and sewed up the

dreadful wound in her breast, but a few hours later she crept on

to the edge of my wife's dress and contentedly sat down and

died.


The cock I still have. When I went home last summer on


four months leave I left him in the Pretoria Zoo, where he had

for company a Barron's Knorhaan {Otis barronii) — but he is back



