The Oliver family settled near central Dakota Territory in the 1880s. Large game was disappearing, but wildfowl remained plentiful. While it was easy to shoot most wildfowl, getting close enough to wary cranes was challenging, even when they landed to feed.
From September through early November, whooping and sandhill cranes migrated south through Dakota. One day, three white cranes descended into the Oliver cornfield. Mr. Oliver and his son took aim, killing one mature bird and wounding a young one. Young Oliver tied its legs and took it home. The surviving parent flew back and forth for three days, calling for its mate and young one.
The family decided not to roast the young crane along with its father. With only a slight wing wound, it was placed in the henhouse until it was fit to fly. One morning, it was let out into the yard, where it walked around eating like the chickens. Many cranes had not yet migrated south and circled the farm for over an hour while the young crane tried to call them down. The young crane made no effort to join them and stayed with the Olivers for three years.
The crane grew tall, awkward, and gangly, resembling the neighbor boy, Bill, and was thus named. Bill could fly but preferred long walks along the roads and creek with the Olivers, making a guttural noise as if talking. He especially enjoyed walking and talking with Mr. Oliver each evening. Sometimes, while the family worked in the fields, large flocks of sandhill cranes landed and danced. Mr. Oliver would spread his arms and imitate them, saying, "Well Billie, let's dance." Bill would spread his wings and skip around Mr. Oliver, sometimes jumping over him.
One night, Bill didn't return home, and the family grew worried, searching ponds and sloughs for miles. After two weeks, they heard him trumpeting from afar. He descended joyfully and landed, walking around and talking loudly, as if announcing his pleasure at being home. In winter, Bill stayed in the henhouse to keep warm.
The next fall, Bill took off again, returning with two white cranes. He tried all day to introduce them to his human family, but they kept their distance and eventually flew away. Later, while walking up the creek to feed in a small pond, Bill encountered a boy who threw a rock and knocked him out. The boy brought Bill to the Olivers, who shut him in the henhouse to recover, but Bill was gone the next morning.
The Olivers searched everywhere for days but found no sign of him. Two years later, they learned what had happened: a stranger from the east had come hunting along the creek and shot Bill when he approached. The Olivers had no doubt that Bill was heading home to them again.
Dakota Datebook by Lise Erdrich
Sources:
- A Whooping Crane Named Bill by S.W. Oliver, Pages 7-13. The Audubon Book of True Nature Stories. John K. Terres, Editor, Audubon Magazine. Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York, NY, 1958.
- Notes by John K. Terres, Editor. A Whooping Crane Named Bill by S.W. Oliver, Pages 297-298.
- Oliver. 1948. A whooping crane named Bill. Audubon Magazine 50:226-231.
- A RETROSPECTIVE OF WHOOPING CRANES IN CAPTIVITY. 2010. Cindi Barret, Livingston, TX. Thomas V. Stehn, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. North American Crane Workshop Proceedings, North American Crane Working Group. University of Nebraska, Lincoln. DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska - Lincoln.
- https://digitalcommons.unl.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?params=/context/nacwgproc/article/1098/&path_info=Barrett___Retrospective.pdf
