Heller shot our first cranes with his .250-.300 Savage rifle.  He stole upon five which were feeding in a meadow and fired while two were “lined up.”  One of the huge birds flapped about on the ground for a few moments and lay still, but the larger was only wing-tipped and started off at full speed across the fields.  Two mafus left the caravan, yelling with excitement, and ran for nearly half a mile before they overtook the bird.  Then they were kept at bay for fifteen minutes by its long beak which is a really formidable weapon.  As food the cranes were perfectly delicious when stuffed with chestnut dressing and roasted.  Each one provided two meals for three of us with enough left over for hash and our appetites were by no means birdlike.

Although the natives attempt to kill cranes they are not often successful, for the birds are very watchful and will not allow a man within a hundred yards.  Such a distance for primitive guns or crossbows might as well be a hundred miles, but with our high-power rifles we were able to shoot as many as were needed for food.

The birds almost invariably followed the river when flying and fed in the rice, barley, and corn fields not far from the water.  It was an inspiring sight to see a flock of the huge birds run for a few steps along the ground and then launch themselves into the air, their black and white wings flashing in the sunlight.  They formed into orderly ranks like a company of soldiers or strung out in a long thin line across the sky.

When we disturbed a flock from especially desirable feeding grounds they would sometimes whirl and circle above the fields, ascending higher and higher in great spirals until they were lost to sight, their musical voices coming faintly down to us like the distant shouts of happy children.

When we returned to Ta-li Fu in early January, cranes were very abundant in the fields about the lake.  They had arrived in late October and would depart in early spring, according to Mr. Evans.  We often saw the birds on sand banks along the Yangtze, but they were usually resting or quietly walking about and were not feeding; apparently they eat only rice, barley, corn, or other grain.

This species was discovered by the great traveler and naturalist, Lieutenant Colonel Prjevalsky, who found it in the Koko-nor region of Tibet, and it was later recorded by Prince Henri d’Orleans from Tsang in the Tibetan highlands.  Apparently specimens from Yuen-nan have not been preserved in museums and the bird was not known to occur in this portion of China.

Along the Yangtze on our way westward we shot a good many mallard ducks (Anas boscas) and ruddy sheldrakes (Casarca casarca); the latter are universally known as “brahminy ducks” by the foreigners in Burma and Yuen-nan, but they are not true ducks.  The name is derived from the bird’s beautiful buff and rufous color which is somewhat like that of the robes worn by the Brahmin priests.  In America the name “sheldrake” is applied erroneously to the fish-eating mergansers, and much confusion has thus arisen, for the two are quite unrelated and belong to perfectly distinct groups.  The mergansers have narrow, hooked, saw-toothed beaks quite unlike those of the sheldrakes, and their habits are entirely dissimilar.