Plus, no one knew exactly where in China they had been captured, or what the birds might have been exposed to during transit. Though it would have been better to return the birds to the wild, international tensions in 1978 made that impossible, Putnam recalls. Instead, they were intercepted by local authorities and eventually shipped to the ICF. Captured illegally in China and smuggled to Hong Kong, the two cranes were probably en route to a private menagerie, or perhaps a taxidermist, Archibald says. While most of the center’s cranes were born in captivity, Mercury and Amazon were wild-caught birds. The handsome birds were famous at the ICF for producing loads of eggs, and also for their unusual origins. Walnut’s parents, Mercury and Amazon, were happy to oblige. When a pair of cranes produced eggs, staff would put the eggs in an incubator, which would prompt the pair to make more. The foundation was in full-tilt crane-making mode, trying to churn out as many of the rare animals as possible, recalls former ICF ornithologist Michael Putnam. Volunteers named her, somewhat randomly, after their favorite dessert at a nearby diner, a walnut cream pie. She was the seventh white-naped crane born at the International Crane Foundation that summer, so her arrival went largely unheralded, says ICF co-founder George Archibald. Walnut hatched on July 2, 1981, in an old horse barn in Baraboo, Wis. Because the larger story was how Chris Crowe won over Walnut’s wild heart.

“I told Chris, ‘Be careful with this one.’ ” He would be so careful, in fact, so thoughtful and patient and understanding, that whether Walnut would become pregnant would be just one part of what transpired between them. “Walnut had this whole ‘black widow’ thing going,” Lynch recalls.

That, at least, was the rumor, Lynch says.Ĭrowe, SCBI’s newest keeper, was assigned to the case. Two male cranes that made amorous overtures toward Walnut had been found dead, with their bellies sliced open by her sharp claws. At 23, she had yet to produce a single chick, and she had a reputation for murdering her mates. When Walnut arrived at the Front Royal, Va., endangered species breeding center, back in 2004, she was the most genetically valuable white-naped crane in captivity. “This isn’t something just anyone can do.” “It’s amazing, what Chris has accomplished with Walnut,” Lynch says. More to the point, this strange cross-species seduction has helped ensure that white-naped cranes continue to exist, at least in captivity, says Warren Lynch, a fellow zookeeper at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute. “It’s not exactly fun for me, but it keeps Walnut happy,” Crowe says.įrom left: Chris Crowe, a bird keeper at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute, with Tasi, a Guam rail Walnut, a white-naped crane that acts as though Crowe is her mate. But that doesn’t stop Crowe and Walnut from going through the motions all summer long, five days a week, sometimes several times a day. Alas, a matchmaker in Memphis - the keeper of the white-naped crane studbook, whose job is to ensure a genetically diverse captive population - has decreed that they don’t need any more babies from Walnut, at least not this year. In past years, Crowe would have taken this opportunity to inject Walnut with a syringe of crane semen.

Thirty seconds elapse - it feels much longer - before Walnut steps away from Crowe, fixes a few out-of-place feathers, and then stretches out her wings, asking for another go-round. Then he starts rubbing her thighs, rhythmically, almost pornographically. Kneeling behind the bird, Crowe rests a hand gently on her back. She returns his bows and then turns away from him and holds her wings loosely away from her body. I follow his suggestion, and, almost immediately, Walnut starts responding to Crowe’s overtures. “Try getting in the van,” Crowe calls to me.

Dying light trainer skill point