WINTER FLIGHTS OF CRANES. 
87 
is in the form of a wedge, or I should rather say, more like 
the letter V — similar, indeed, somewhat to the flight of wild 
duck to our shores. An old bird leads in the van, others follow, 
and the young birds bring up the rear. Their curious and dis- 
tinctive call is heard from a long distance off. The cry of the 
old bird resembles 'the sound of the words hran-krdn, which is 
taken up and responded to by the young birds with a shrill and 
piercing note like cheen-cheen. The Punjabees call them “koonj,” 
and the Hindustanees “ koolung,” and all herald their approach 
as the commencement of their winter season. 
Perhaps their most favourite haunts are in the neighbour- 
hood of the villages of Shah-Mahmudi, Traab and Jubbee, 
situated near the bed of the river Sohan, which flows into the 
Indus near the first-named village. It is in these low-lying and 
marshy lands that they find the insects, small reptiles, and fish 
on which they chiefly feed, though they are not averse from 
fattening themselves on the young grain which at that time of 
the year is just showing above ground. As the young birds are 
good eating, especially after they have been for some time in the 
country, they frequently fall a prey to the gun of the European 
sportsman ; and in many instances the natives themselves, who 
rather relish the delicacy, invent many ingenious methods of 
capturing them. There is to be seen, of course, the usual trap 
by horse-hair nooses, which are placed near their feeding 
grounds, a plan generally resorted to by the boys of the 
villages; but perhaps the most unique and original method of 
catching them is by the simple expedient of a line and weight, 
which is termed by the natives a “ kiovry-arah ” or “crane- 
check.” This line, not unlike coarse whipcord, is made by 
twisting together strands of the “ moonj ” grass {Sacchavum 
Moonja), and possesses the advantage of not readily getting 
into a knot or tangle. Each man takes about forty or fifty 
yards of this cord, and winds it loosely between his hand and 
elbow, so as to run out easily, and the pendant to it is a six- or 
eight-ounce weight of lead, iron, or sometimes of stone, which is 
hurled at the birds when in flight, who become entangled in 
the cord usually by their necks or wings. The natives of the 
villages assemble sometimes by a hundred or more at a time for 
the enjoyment of this sport, and generally choose a dark night for 
the purpose, though they are known to go out sometimes when 
the moon is shining. The men, as a rule, lie concealed in the 
bed of the river at some distance from where the birds are 
feeding, they then detach three or four men to act as beaters, 
who, taking a wide circle, come round at the back of the cranes. 
When disturbed the birds fly away from them, and going along 
the river bed very soon come within range of the kiovry-arahs, 
and the whole flock is suddenly assailed with these missiles, and 
thus many are entangled and taken. 
Though thus ensnared they are by no means easy to lay hold 
of, for they use their beaks and legs with great nimbleness. 
