I now enter upon a subject to which I fear I have neither time nor power to do justice. The number of various kinds of birds which breed on the great plain of Erzeroom is so prodigious as to be almost incredible to those who have not seen them, as I often have, covering the earth for miles and miles so completely that the color of the ground could not be seen; particularly at one period, when the whole country had a rosy appearance, from the countless flocks of a sort of red goose, which I take to be the ruddy sheldrake—a splendid bird, though not good to eat. It is about the size of a small goose or a Muscovy duck, almost entirely clothed in various shades of red. Troops of the two varieties of the wild gray goose form whitish spots in the animated landscape, their wild cries and noises sounding in every direction. So closely covered was the plain with this prodigious multitude of every kind of wild fowl, that I have galloped among them for some distance, the birds getting up about one hundred yards in a circle round my horse, and settling again behind me with loud cries, while the air rustled with the beating of innumerable wings of those birds which had been disturbed by my approach. The sportsman may imagine what shooting there is at Erzeroom, for when one genus has reared its young and flown away to far and distant lands, another takes its place. Quails are at one time almost as thick as flies; and numerous varieties of small birds, among which the horned lark and the red-winged finch flew in clouds. That beautiful variety, the rosy starling, has been often shot, as well as the merops, and so many other little fowls of varied plumage, that I must refer the reader to the accompanying list, for it would fill a book to give even a slight description of them all. On the banks of the river I used to shoot all sorts of waders, particularly spoonbills, and that most delicate of birds, the egret or white heron, famous for its plumes. I must own to being a bad shot, having been more accustomed to the rifle, but these white herons afforded me great practice; as they flapped along, I shot numbers of them, as well as many and many a quaint fellow with long legs, whom I brought home merely to make out who he was, and to write down his name. Later in the year I risked my neck by riding as hard as I could tear over the rocky, or rather stony, plains at the foot of the mountains after the great bustard. I have more than once knocked some of the feathers out of these glorious huge birds, as they ran at a terrible pace, half flying and scrambling before my straining horse, but I never succeeded in killing one, though I have constantly partaken of those which had fallen before more patient gunners, who stalk them as you would a deer, and knock them over with a rifle or swan-shot from behind a stone or bank.

I had more success with the great cinereous crane, which runs much faster than a horse. I shot one at full gallop with a rifle, in a place overgrown with reeds. This was a mighty triumph, for, though my game was about five feet high, he was so very long in the legs and neck, that the body offered but a small mark to be brought down under such circumstances, and the pace he was going at the time, and I after him, was, as they say, “a caution.” This is a bird with whom it is requisite to be wary: if he is down, and not killed outright, like the heron and the stork he makes a dart with his sharp, long bill at the eyes of his enemy, and its strength is such that it might easily, I should think, penetrate the brain; at any rate, the eye would be picked out at once, and that would suffice for that time.

A man brought in a crane which he had winged, and we turned him out into the yard with the poultry, where he stalked up and down with a proud, indignant air. He soon became pretty quiet, and ate his corn with the rest, while he had a deep bucket of water for his own use, into which he used to poke his head continually. One day a stupid, heavy servant went into the yard, and, not knowing that the bucket was placed there for the stork, he took it up to carry it away, when the bird flew at him and pecked at his face, but, missing his eye, seized him tightly by the nose, and there he held him for a good while. The poor man halloed loud enough, but those who came to his assistance could not help him at first for laughing; and though he kept beating at the crane with the bucket, which he held in his hand, his long neck enabled him to keep so far off that he escaped all the frantic attempts of his prisoner to reach him. The man’s nose was swelled and very sore for some time, and he never got over the ridicule which attached to him for his perilous adventure with the crane. It was touching to watch this crane: when the time for its emigration arrived, a flock of its magnificent companions every day used to fly high up in the air, in a wheeling circle, above its head. This circle of flying birds has a very striking effect. The cranes above called to their friend to join them for their distant journey to a happier climate, and the poor helpless crane below, stretching its long neck up toward the sky, answered the appeal in a singularly mournful cry.

Various kinds of partridge exist, and the lesser bustard, called, in Turkish, Mesmeldek, is an excellent bird for the table. They have a curious method of catching the mesmeldek in some of the steppes in Southern Russia. At the commencement of winter, parties of horsemen gallop out upon the plains before sunrise, at which hour the wings of these birds are frozen to their sides, and, the hunters stretching out their horses in a line, the birds are driven by them into the villages, and secured, before the warmth of the sun releases their wings and restores their powers of flight. Great flocks of the lesser bustard have been driven in this manner occasionally into Odessa. Hawks and stately falcons hover over head, and prey upon their defenseless brethren at their ease.

Storks build upon the chimneys; and among the sticks of which their huge nest is formed, the sparrows make their nests, stealing, when they can, any food, which the old birds bring for their young.

Here, as in all other parts of the world, this impertinent race of little birds dispute possession of the house with mice and other intruders; but at Erzeroom they are hardly put to it sometimes for want of twigs to perch upon, and they sit usually, instead, upon the iron bars of the windows in the town. Here I have often watched them chirping in the cold, as they sat by the dozen on the bars of my window, dressing their feathers, and jabbering to each other, like true Koordish sparrows, about the corn that they stole from my chickens yesterday, and how, with case-hardened consciences, they intend to steal as much more as they can get to-day.

This is a subject on which I could dilate to any length, but at present I must conclude with the following list of the various tribes of birds who, in thousands and millions, would reward the toil of the sportsman and the naturalist on the plains and mountains of the high lands of Armenia; merely adding to this brief notice of the birds of this country the following veracious anecdote, as perhaps hitherto naturalists may not all of them be aware of the origin of the separation of the wild and tame goose:

In former days, two geese agreed to take a long journey together: the evening before they were to set out, one said to the other, “Mind you are ready, my friend, for, Inshallah, I will set out to-morrow morning!” “And so will I,” replied he, “whether it pleases God or not!” The sun rose the next day, and the pious goose, having ate his breakfast, and quenched his thirst in the waters of the stream, rose lightly on the wing, and soared away to a distant land. The impious bird also prepared to follow him; but, after hopping and fluttering for a long while, he found himself totally unable to rise from the ground; and his evolutions having been observed by a fowler who happened to be passing that way, he was presently caught, and reduced to servitude, in which his race have ever since continued, while the descendants of the religious goose still enjoy that freedom in which they were originally created.

LIST OF BIRDS FOUND AT ERZEROOM.

Raptores (Birds of Prey).

Insepores (or Perchers).

Deutirostres.

Fissirostres.

Conirostres.

Tenuirostres.

Scansores (or Climbers).

Rasores (allinaceous Birds).

GrallÆ (or Waders).

Palmipedes (Web-footed Birds).

For this list of birds I am indebted to the kindness of my friend Mr. Calvert, of Erzeroom, to whom I take this opportunity of expressing my best thanks for a communication so interesting to lovers of natural history.