Viktor Gavrilenko charges across the Ukrainian steppe at nearly 60 miles an hour. His rickety, dark green Lada bounces wildly over the parched grass and kicks up clouds of dust as we overtake terrified herds of buffaloes, zebras, wildebeests, and antelopes. About two dozen cranes pass somewhere above us in a perfect wedge formation, dark shades against the pale blue sky, like a bomber squadron going to war.
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