3s8 The Cranes 



some perhaps not more than three hundred yards 

 above our heads, others so high that they seemed 

 no larger than gulls. All were floating and 

 wheeling, and their circling courses blended and 

 cut into each other in a manner truly bewilder- 

 ing. Fully half of the birds appeared to be shout- 

 ing at the other half, and, taken altogether, the 

 sight was most interesting. 



After we had watched them for some time, my 

 comrade remarked, "What are we two duffers 

 dreaming about?" As he spoke he seized the 

 rifle, pointed it at the flock, fired, and at once 

 handed it over to me. We lay upon our backs 

 side by side, and all I did was to rest the butt of 

 the piece on the ground beside me, glance along 

 the barrel, fire, and pass the rifle back. He took 

 another shot, then something happened. I fired 

 in the same careless fashion, and was in the act of 

 passing back the rifle, when we heard a distinct 

 " whop ! " from above. 



" By the Lord Harry, you goi one — and here 

 he comes ! " roared my friend. 



It was true enough. That storied chance shot 



had killed the or rather the crane, and he was 



coming like a small avalanche of snowy plumage. 

 He fell in the alkali water a few yards from the 

 mud, and after considerable trouble I managed to 

 get him out without going too deeply into the 

 Crown Lands Department. The ball had struck 



