THE COMMON CRANE. 27 
lenged, provided only he spares the particular fruits that the 
owner has shaded from the sun for greater enjoyment during 
the noontide glare. On these descend the Cranes. When first 
I noticed a field where they had fed, it seemed as though some 
malevolent Mrs. Gamp had patrolled the place, viciously dig- 
ging the point of her huge umbrella two or three times into 
each melon. The people told me that the offenders were Cranes, 
but with truly national contempt for facts, not verified by one’s 
self, I disbelieved the fact. Later, however, I repeatedly 
watched them in the act, and from their mode of lifting their 
heads when at work, and from the examination of scores of 
injured fruit, I came to the conclusion that, though they did eat 
small portions of the interior part of the fruit, and some of the 
seeds, they attacked the melons chiefly for drinking purposes, 
water being in most cases far distant. 
I myself believe the Common Crane to be by preference, 
mainly a vegetarian; but at all times a small admixture of 
animal food may be traced in the stomachs of some birds, and 
when their favourite food is scarce, they eat water-crickets and 
other insects, slugs and worms, small shells, both land and water, 
and I have found the remains of small fish occasionally in their 
gizzards. Of course these latter contain, like those of all such 
birds, quantities of small pebbles, mostly quartz, some as large 
as peas, a few at times even larger. 
At night they prefer to roost—if I may use the expression 
of birds so persistently noisy during hours of darkness that 
none but very old and deaf individuals can possibly sleep a 
wink—on some sandbank entirely surrounded by a good breadth 
of water ; whether as a protection against nocturnal beasts, or 
why, I cannot say. 
Dr. Jerdon tells us that this species is sometimes hawked 
with Peregrines, and gives a fine chase, I have seen it tried on 
more than one occasion without success. Once from a high 
perpendicular cliff of the Jumna we flew one at a flock, im- 
mediately below us, that rose as we appeared on the edge of 
the cliff. This was, I suppose, about 100 feet high, and the 
Cranes may have been 200 from the base of the cliff. The 
Falcon went down into the flock with one swoop. How it hap- 
pened it was impossible to see, but the Cranes flew off uninjured, 
and the Peregrine floated, breast upwards and stone dead, down 
the river. When recovered, both wings were broken, the head 
was smashed in, and the back and backbone were completely 
broken in. On other occasions, when flown from below, I have 
seen Peregrines and Shaheens, either refuse the chase, or after 
vigorous efforts fail to get above the Cranes. But I have seen a 
pair of Bonelli’s Eagles come down on a solitary, winged Crane, 
on a sandbank, and kill it at the first swoop, and try hard, but 
without success, to carry it off as the boatmen approached. 
