Few wading birds are more remarkable for grace of form and elegance of deportment than the Demoiselle, or Numidian Crane, so that Linnæus justly gave it the name of virgin (_Grus virgo_). Like the ibis it is easily domesticated, and daily gains upon the affections of its master by the numerous proofs of attachment and intelligence which it gives him. With maidenish care it preserves its silken plumage from every spot or defilement, and enhances its beauty by the arts of an amiable coquetry. With our Common Cranes (_Grus cinerea_) it hibernates on the sand-banks of the tropical Nile, where it meets the crowned Demoiselle (_Grus Pavonia_), which, in spite of its more gorgeous plumage, is a far less attractive bird. When sailing about the middle of October on one of the two chief rivers of East Sudan, the traveller sees day and night flocks of Cranes fly past and settle for the winter on some appropriate spot. They consist of common and Numidian Cranes. The latter have been found breeding in summer on the banks of the Wolga, and very rarely in Germany, but no one knows where the thousands which assemble in the Sudan spend their summer months. The Demoiselle, a rare bird in most collections, is there met with in such multitudes as literally to cover a large sand island. All the cabinets of Europe might be largely provided with specimens, if the bird was not so extremely intelligent, shy, and cautious. It evades every snare, and constantly keeps at a respectful distance from the sportsman’s gun. Brehm chose the night for its chase, and found that when the moon shone, it used to fly once as high again as when protected by darkness. The ornithological wonders of Australia and its neighbouring islands are inferior to those of no other part of the world. Though of less dazzling splendour than the peacock’s tail, that of the Menura, or Lyre-bird, is unrivalled for its elegance. Fancy two large, broad, black and brown striped feathers, curved in the form of a Grecian lyre, and between both, other feathers, whose widely distanced silken barbs envelope and surmount them with a light and airy gauze. No painter could possibly have imagined anything to equal this masterpiece of nature, which its shy possessor conceals in the wild bushes of Australia. ‘Of all the birds I have ever met with,’ says Mr. Gould, ‘the Menura is by far the most difficult to procure. While among the bushes, on the coast or on the sides of the mountains in the interior, I have been surrounded by those birds pouring forth their loud and liquid calls for days together, without being able to get a sight of them, and it was only by the most determined perseverance and extreme caution that I was enabled to effect the desired object.’