94 NATUEAL HISTORY COLLECTIONS IN ALASKA. 



Aedea hekodias Linn. Great Blue Heron. 



This heron was found by Bischoff at Sitka, where it is rare. It is also recorded from Portage 

 Bay, in the southeast part of the Territory, by Hartlaub. Facts obtained by me indicate that it 

 may possibly occur up to Nnlato, on the Yukon, and the Kuslevak mouth of this stream. For the 

 last two references I am indebted to the natives and fur traders. Au old native woman told me 

 that several times she had seen, at Nulato, cranes of a different kind from those so numerous at 

 Yukon mouth ((?. canadensis), and that those seen at Nulato always perched on the tops of high 

 trees. This was corroborated by another native from the same place. The Kuslevak record is 

 somewhat more doubtful, as the bird was found dead upon the snow early in April, and was seen 

 by a Russian fur trader, who bought it from the natives for me, but the warm weather, setting in 

 soon after, spoiled it and it was thrown away. From the descrii)tion given, the bird could not be 

 anything else, so far as I could see, though there is a chance that the describer made unreal char- 

 acters the base of his description. 



Grus canadensis (Linn.). Little Brown Crane (Esk. Ldt-slMl:). 



This species is a rare straggler to Point Barrow, but from the Estimo Murdoch learned that 

 it is abundant on the Arctic coast east of Colville River. On the Near Islands it is a very rare 

 fall visitor and Beau saw cranes flying across Bering Straits, heading for the American shore, 

 on August 18. Skins of this species are in the National Museum collection from Kadiak Island, 

 Saint Michaels, and the Yukon, in Alaska, thence east to the Anderson River. 



The habitat of the well known mexicana is limited to the middle latitudes, where it is common, 

 extending over the entire United States and into the southern parts of British America. In 

 winter the two forms to some extent mingle in the south. 



Several instances are known of the capture of canadensis in its winter home, one of these being 

 Cassin's type, taken by Mollhausen in October, 1853, at Albuquerque, N. Mex., and the second, taken 

 on the Rio Verde, Mexico, February 23, 1879, is now in the Bluseum of Comparative Zoology at 

 Cambridge, Mass. Several specimens have been taken in Colorado in fall. The chief reason for 

 its apparent scarcity in the south is that owing to its close resemblance to mexicana it has been 

 mistaken for that species and overlooked, while in addition its wariness has rendered it very diflBcult 

 to secure. 



Nothing is known of its habits or movements after it leaves its northern home, but while in 

 its summer haunt on the shores of Bering Sea the writer has enjoyed abundant opportunities for 

 studying it and purposes to detail some points of interest regarding it. 



At Saint Michaels it sometimes arrives by May 7, when there is yet scarcely a bare spot of 

 ground, and one season these early-comers had to endure some severe weather, and several inches 

 of new snow, over which they stalked glum and silent, showing little of their usual roystering 

 spirit. As a rule they are not seen until from the 10th to the 15th of the month, when the ground 

 is usually half bare and the cranes can search every hill-side for last year's heath-berries, which, 

 with an occasional lemming or mouse, constitute their food at this season. 



They come from the south toward the Lower Yukon, and on mild, pleasant days it is a common 

 sight to see the cranes advancing high overhead in wide circuits, poised on motionless wings, 

 and moving with a grace unexpected in such awkwardly-formed birds. As the weather gets 

 warmer they become more and more numerous, until the drier parts of the wide flats and low, 

 rounded elevations are numerously populated by these odd birds. The air is filled with the loud, 

 hard, rolling Jcr-roo, Icr-r-rroo, Icu-kr-r-roo, and either flying by, with trailing legs, or moving 

 gravely from place to place, they do much to render the monotonous landscape animate. The end 

 of May draws near, and the full tide of their spring-fever causes these birds to render themselves 

 preeminently ludicrous by the queer antics and performances which the crahe's own book of 

 etiquette doubtless rules to be the proper thing at this mad season. I have frequently lain in 

 concealment and watched the birds conduct their affairs of love close by, and it is an interesting 

 as well as amusing sight. Some notes jotted down on the spot will present the matter more 

 vividly than I can describe from memory, and I quote them. 



