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Geoffery H. Clark—Some Birds of the Veld



none the wiser ornithologically speaking, than when I went out. There

are just a few, however, who by reason of size, vieiousness, or value,

that I can remember a little about and perhaps an account of these

might be of interest to members.


The first one is the Secretary Bird. He will probably be so well

known that there will be no need to describe him. He is famous

for his habit of eating snakes, but from the halo that ignorant people

give him, one would think that his entire menu was composed of these

noxious reptiles. This alas ! is not so, and so far from being a hero

to be nationally lauded he is a villain of the worst type. There is

nothing he likes more than a brood of young Francolins or possibly

a nice, succulent leveret, and so all game-preserving men hunt him

to a standstill. This is not so easy as it might be, as the Secretary

is endowed with the proverbial cunning of a bagload of monkeys and

to bring about his ruin is by no means easy. It usually involves

long range rifle shooting unless one can find his roosting tree and lay

up for him. As I am pretty hopeless with a rifle, my bag of these birds

was limited to one, who for some unknown reason sat tight in some

thick cover and rose at about thirty yards in front of me when I was

carrying a twelve.


The Kafir or Crowned Crane may sometimes be seen stalking about

the veld seeking sustenance, and is sometimes mistaken by the tyro

for a Secretary Bird. That they both have crests may serve to heighten

this illusion, but the Crane is a much more slender bird and walks with

an airy grace that the more solid Secretary cannot achieve. Kafir

Cranes may sometimes be seen dancing, apparently from pure joie de

vivre , but no one as sinister as a Secretary could ever look on life with

such joyous abandon. Kafir Cranes are quite harmless and their

food—small reptiles and insects—causes no annoyance to anyone.


Herons of several types—I could never determine how many—

are common where there are any dams and ponds, and unless one has

fish that one wishes to preserve they too are quite harmless. They

are sometimes shot on account of a little clump of lacy feathers—

an aigrette is, I believe, the correct term—which they carry in the

middle of their backs, and with which ladies like to decorate their hats.

I was once cajoled into dropping a Heron for this purpose and when



