Later that morning we spot another pair of crowned cranes. They have decided to feed in the grassy meadow in front of our camp, between the lake and the fig-​tree forest. One of the tallest East African birds, the crowned crane stands over three feet [almost a meter] on stiltlike black legs. Its plumage is a beautiful blend of white, maroon, black, and gray. But the remarkable features are seen above the neck. The velvety black forehead is bordered by white and scarlet face wattles​—large fleshy lobes. And the crown? A regal tuft of straw-​colored, bristlelike feathers. No wonder it was chosen as the national bird of neighboring Uganda!

“Have you ever seen a crowned crane dance?” Paul calls out to me from a distance. I immediately head in his direction. “What do you think of that?” he whispers as we approach them. The cranes face each other, those elegant heads bobbing and bowing as if participating in some bizarre royal ceremony. With both wings open and raised high above the back, a span of some four feet [over a meter], they dance and pirouette in a solemn fashion for several minutes.

“Is this the mating dance?” I whisper.

“No, they do this anytime,” he replies. “In western Kenya I’ve seen a flock of a hundred or more dancing.”

During the mating season, the male really puts on a show. (How could he ever hope to impress her with just his everyday dance?) Standing hunched up and stooped over, with only one wing raised, he proudly throws his head back and, with bill pointing skyward, utters the booming bass mating call. Impressive indeed!

Crowned crane