(CARANCHO CARRION-HAWK.)
+Polyborus vulgaris+, _Burm. La-Plata Reise_, ii. p. 434 (La Plata);
_Durnford, Ibis_, 1877, p. 40 (Chupat). +Polyborus tharus+, _Scl.
et Salv. Nomencl._ p. 123; _Durnford, Ibis_, 1877, p. 188 (Buenos
Ayres), et 1878, p. 398 (Centr. Patagonia); _Gibson, Ibis_, 1879,
p. 415 (Buenos Ayres); _White, P. Z. S._ 1883, p. 41 (Cordova);
_Barrows, Auk_, 1884, p. 111 (Entrerios); _Sharpe, Cat. B._ i. p.
31. +Polyborus brasiliensis+, _Darwin, Zool. Beagle_, iii. p. 9.
_Description._--Above dark brown with whitish mottlings; head
blackish; wings and tail greyish white, with numerous greyish-brown
cross bars and blackish tips: beneath dark brown, varied with white;
throat and sides of head fulvous white; bill yellow, bluish at the
base; cere orange; feet brown; claws black: whole length 20 inches,
wing 15·5, tail 9·0. _Female_ similar.
_Hab._ South America.
This bird, which combines the raptorial instincts of the Eagle with the
base carrion-feeding propensities of the Vulture, has already had so
many biographers that it might seem superfluous to speak again at any
great length of it; only it happens to be one of those very versatile
species about which there is always something fresh to be said; and,
besides, I do not altogether agree with the very ignoble character
usually ascribed to it by travellers. It is, however, probable that it
varies greatly in disposition and habits in different districts. In
Patagonia I was surprised at its dejected appearance and skulking
cowardly manner, so unlike the bird I had been accustomed to see on the
pampas. I shot several, and they were all in a miserably poor condition
and apparently half-starved. It struck me that in that cold sterile
country, where prey is scarce, the Carancho is altogether out of place;
for it there has to compete with Eagles and Vultures in large numbers;
and these, it is almost needless to say, are, in their separate lines,
stronger than the composite and less specialized Carancho. In Patagonia
he is truly a "miserable bird," with a very frail hold on existence. How
different on that illimitable grassy ocean further north, where he is
the lord of the feathered race, for Eagles and Vultures, that require
mountains and trees to breed and roost on, do not come there to set him
aside; there the conditions are suited to him and have served to develop
in him a wonderfully bold and savage spirit. When seen perched on a
conical ant-hill, standing erect above the tall plumy grass, he has a
fine, even a noble, appearance; but when flying he is not handsome, the
wings being very bluntly rounded at the extremities and the flight low
and ungraceful. The plumage is blackish in the adult, brown in the
young. The sides of the head and breast are creamy white, the latter
transversely marked with black spots. The crown is adorned with a crest
or top-knot. The beak is much larger than in Eagles and Vultures, and of
a dull blue colour; the cere and legs are bright yellow.
The species ranges throughout South America, and from Paraguay
northwards is called everywhere, I believe, "Caracara." South of Paraguay
the Spanish name is "Carancho," possibly a corruption of "Keanché," the
Puelche name for the allied _Milvago chimango_, in imitation of its
peevish cry. The Indian name for the Carancho in these regions is
_Trarú_ (from its harsh cry), misspelt _tharú_ by Molina.
The Caranchos pair for life, and may therefore be called social birds;
they also often live and hunt in families of the parent and young birds
until the following spring; and at all times several individuals will
readily combine to attack their prey, but they never live or move about
in flocks. Each couple has its own home or resting-place, which they
will continue to use for an indefinite time, roosting on the same branch
and occupying the same nest year after year; while at all times the two
birds are seen constantly together and seem very much attached. Azara
relates that he once saw a male pounce down on a frog, and carrying it
to a tree call his mate to him and make her a present of it. It was not
a very magnificent present, but the action seems to show that the bird
possesses some commendable qualities which are seldom seen in the
raptorial family.
In uninhabited places I have always found the Caranchos just as abundant
as in the settled districts; and after a deer has been pulled down by
the dogs I have seen as many as seventy or eighty birds congregate
to feed on its flesh within half an hour, although not one had been
previously visible. D'Orbigny describes the bird as a parasite on man,
savage and civilized, following him everywhere to feed on the leavings
when he slays wild or domestic animals, and as being scarcely able to
exist without him. No doubt the bird does follow man greatly to its
advantage, but this is only in very thinly settled and purely pastoral
and hunting districts, where a large proportion of the flesh of every
animal slain is given to the fowls of the air. Where the population
increases the Carancho quickly meets with the fate of all large species
which are regarded as prejudicial.
Without doubt it is a carrion-eater, but only, I believe, when it cannot
get fresh provisions; for when famished it will eat anything rather
than study its dignity and suffer hunger like the nobler Eagle. I have
frequently seen one or two or three of them together on the ground under
a column of winged ants, eagerly feasting on the falling insects. To eat
putrid meat it must be very hungry indeed; it is, however, amazingly
fond of freshly-killed flesh, and when a cow is slaughtered at an
estancia-house the Carancho quickly appears on the scene to claim his
share, and catching up the first thing he can lift he carries it off
before the dogs can deprive him of it. When he has risen to a height
of five or six yards in the air he drops the meat from his beak and
dexterously catches it in his claws without pausing or swerving in his
flight. It is singular that the bird seems quite incapable of lifting
anything from the ground with the claws, the beak being invariably used,
even when the prey is an animal which it might seem dangerous to lift
in this way. I once saw one of these birds swoop down on a rat from a
distance of about forty feet, and rise with its struggling and squealing
prey to a height of twenty feet, then drop it from its beak and
gracefully catch it in its talons. Yet when it pursues and overtakes a
bird in the air it invariably uses the claws in the same way as other
Hawks. This I have frequently observed, and I give the two following
anecdotes to show that even birds which one would imagine to be quite
safe from the Carancho are on some occasions attacked by it.
While walking in a waste field near my home one day I came on a Pigeon
feeding, and at once recognized it as one which had only began to fly
about a week before; for although a large number of Pigeons were kept,
this bird happened to be of the purest unspotted white, and for a long
time I had been endeavouring to preserve and increase the pure
white individuals, but with very little success, for the Peregrines
invariably singled them out for attack. A Carancho was circling about at
some distance overhead, and while I stood still to watch and admire my
Pigeon it stooped to within twenty yards of the surface and remained
hovering over my head. Presently the Pigeon became alarmed and flew
away, whereupon the Hawk gave chase--a very vain chase I imagined it
would prove. It lasted for about half a minute, the Pigeon rushing
wildly round in wide circles, now mounting aloft and now plunging
downwards close to the surface, the Carancho hotly following all the
time. At length, evidently in great terror, the hunted bird flew down,
alighting within a yard and a half of my feet. I stooped to take hold of
it, when, becoming frightened at my action, it flew straight up and was
seized in the talons of its pursuer close to my face and carried away.
In the next case the bird attacked was the Spur-winged Lapwing, the
irreconcilable enemy of the Carancho and its bold and persistent
persecutor. The very sight of this Hawk rouses the Lapwings to a frenzy
of excitement, and springing aloft they hasten to meet it in mid-air
screaming loudly, and continue to harry it until it leaves their
ground, after which they return, and, ranged in triplets, perform their
triumphal dances, accompanied with loud drumming notes. But if their
hated foe alights on the ground, or on some elevation near them, they
hover about him, and first one, then another, rushes down with the
greatest violence, and gliding near him turns the bend of its wing
so that the spur appears almost to graze his head. While one bird is
descending, others are rising upwards to renew their charges; and this
persecution continues until they drive him away, or become exhausted
with their fruitless efforts. The Carancho, however, takes little notice
of his tormentors; only when the Plover comes very close, evidently bent
on piercing his skull with its sharp weapon, he quickly dodges his head,
after which he resumes his indifferent demeanour until the rush of the
succeeding bird takes place.
While out riding one day a Carancho flew past me attended by about
thirty Lapwings, combined to hunt him from their ground, for it was
near the breeding-season, when their jealous irascible temper is most
excited. All at once, just as a Lapwing swept close by and then passed
on before it, the Hawk quickened its flight in the most wonderful manner
and was seen in hot pursuit of its tormentor. The angry hectoring cries
of the Lapwings instantly changed to piercing screams of terror, which
in a very short time brought a crowd numbering between two and three
hundred birds to the rescue. Now, I thought, the hunted bird will
escape, for it twisted and turned rapidly about, trying to lose itself
amongst its fellows, all hovering in a compact cloud about it and
screaming their loudest. But the Carancho was not to be shaken off; he
was never more than a yard behind his quarry, and I was near enough to
distinguish the piteous screams of the chased Lapwing amidst all the
tumult, as of a bird already captive. At the end of about a minute it
was seized in the Carancho's talons, and, still violently screaming,
borne away. The cloud of Lapwings followed for some distance, but
presently they all returned to the fatal spot where the contest had
taken place; and for an hour afterwards they continued soaring about in
separate bodies, screaming all the time with an unusual note in their
voices as of fear or grief, and holding excited conclaves on the ground,
too all appearance as greatly disturbed in their minds as an equal
number of highly emotional human beings would be in the event of a
similar disaster overtaking them.
It is not often, however, that the Carancho ventures singly to attack
adult and vigorous birds, except Tinamous; they prey by preference on
the young or ailing, on small lambs and pigs left at a distance by their
dams; and they also frequently attack and kill old and weakly sheep.
Where anything is wrong with bird or beast they are very quick to
detect it, and will follow a sportsman to pick up the wounded birds,
intelligently keeping at a safe distance themselves. I once shot a
Flamingo in the grey stage of plumage and had some trouble to cross the
stream, on the opposite side of which the bird, wounded very slightly,
was rapidly stalking away. In three or four minutes I was over and found
my Flamingo endeavouring to defend itself against the assaults of a
Carancho which had marked it for its own, and was striking it on the
neck and breast in the most vigorous and determined way, sometimes from
above, at other times alighting on the ground before it and springing
up to strike like a game-cock. A spot of blood on the plumage of the
wounded bird, which had only one wing slightly damaged, had been
sufficient to call down the attack; for to the Carancho a spot of blood,
a drooping wing, or any irregularity in the gait, quickly tells its
tale.
When several of these birds combine they are very bold. A friend told me
that while voyaging on the Paraná river a Black-necked Swan flew past
him hotly pursued by three Caranchos; and I also witnessed an attack by
four birds on a widely different species. I was standing on the bank of
a stream on the pampas watching a great concourse of birds of several
kinds on the opposite shore, where the carcass of a horse, from which
the hide had been stripped, lay at the edge of the water. One or two
hundred Hooded Gulls and about a dozen Chimangos were gathered about
the carcass, and close to them a very large flock of Glossy Ibises were
wading about in the water, while amongst these, standing motionless
in the water, was one solitary White Egret. Presently four Caranchos
appeared, two adults and two young birds in brown plumage, and alighted
on the ground near the carcass. The young birds advanced at once and
began tearing at the flesh; while the two old birds stayed where they
had alighted, as if disinclined to feed on half-putrid meat. Presently
one of them sprung into the air and made a dash at the birds in the
water, and instantly all the birds in the place rose into the air
screaming loudly, the two young brown Caranchos only remaining on the
ground. For a few moments I was in ignorance of the meaning of all this
turmoil, when, suddenly, out of the confused black and white cloud of
birds the Egret appeared, mounting vertically upwards with vigorous
measured strokes. A moment later and first one, then the other, Carancho
also emerged from the cloud, evidently pursuing the Egret, and only then
the two brown birds sprung into the air and joined in the chase. For
some minutes I watched the four birds toiling upwards with a wild zigzag
flight, while the Egret, still rising vertically, seemed to leave them
hopelessly far behind. But before long they reached and passed it, and
each bird as he did so would turn and rush downwards, striking at the
Egret with his claws, and while one descended the others were rising,
bird following bird with the greatest regularity. In this way they
continued toiling upwards until the Egret appeared a mere white speck in
the sky, about which the four hateful black spots were still revolving.
I had watched them from the first with the greatest excitement, and now
began to fear that they would pass from sight and leave me in ignorance
of the result; but at length they began to descend, and then it looked
as if the Egret had lost all hope, for it was dropping very rapidly,
while the four birds were all close to it striking at it every three
or four seconds. The descent for the last half of the distance was
exceedingly rapid, and the birds would have come down almost at the very
spot they started from, which was about forty yards from where I stood,
but the Egret was driven aside, and sloping rapidly down struck the
earth at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards from the starting
point. Scarcely had it touched the ground before the hungry quartette
were tearing it with their beaks. They were all equally hungry no doubt,
and perhaps the old birds were even hungrier than their young; and I
am quite sure that if the flesh of the dead horse had not been so far
advanced towards putrefaction they would not have attempted the conquest
of the Egret.
I have so frequently seen a pure white bird singled out for attack in
this way, that it has always been a great subject of wonder to me how
the two common species of snow-white Herons in South America are able
to maintain their existence; for their whiteness exceeds that of other
white Waterfowl, while, compared with Swans, Storks, and the Wood-Ibis,
they are small and feeble. I am sure that if these four Caranchos had
attacked a Glossy Ibis they would have found it an easier conquest; yet
they singled out the Egret, purely, I believe, on account of its shining
white conspicuous plumage.
This wing-contest was a very splendid spectacle, and I was very glad
that I had witnessed it, although it ended badly for the poor Egret; but
in another case of a combined attack by Caranchos there was nothing to
admire except the intelligence displayed by the birds in combining,
and much to cause the mind to revolt against the blindly destructive
ferocity exhibited by Nature in the instincts of her creatures. This
scene was witnessed by a beloved old Gaucho friend of mine, a born
naturalist, who related it to me. It was in summer, and he was riding in
a narrow bridle-path on a plain covered with a dense growth of giant
thistles, nine or ten feet high, when he noticed some distance ahead
several Caranchos hovering over one spot; and at once conjectured that
some large animal had fallen there, or that a traveller had been thrown
from his horse and was lying injured amongst the thistles. On reaching
the spot, he found an open space of ground about forty yards in
diameter, surrounded by the dense wall of close-growing thistles,
and over this place the birds were flying, while several others were
stationed near, apparently waiting for something to happen. The
attraction was a large male Rhea squatting on the ground, and sheltering
with its extended wings a brood of young birds. My friend was not able
to count them, but there were not fewer than twenty-five or thirty young
birds, small tender things, only a day or so out of the shell. As soon
as he rode into the open space of ground, the old Ostrich sprung up,
and with lowered head, clattering beak, and broad wings spread out like
sails, rushed at him; his horse was greatly terrified, and tried to
plunge into the dense mass of thistles, so that he had the greatest
difficulty in keeping his seat. Presently the Ostrich left him, and
casting his eyes round he was astonished to see that all the young
Ostriches were running about, scattered over the ground, while the
Caranchos were pursuing, knocking down, and killing them. Meanwhile the
old Ostrich was frantically rushing about trying to save them; but the
Caranchos, when driven from one bird they were attacking, would merely
rise a few yards and drop on the next one a dozen yards off; and as
there were about fifteen Caranchos all engaged in the same way, the
slaughter was proceeding at a great rate. My friend, who had been vainly
struggling to get the better of his horse, was then forced to leave the
place, and did not therefore see the end of the tragedy in which he had
acted an involuntary part; but before going he saw that at least half
the young birds were dead, and that these were all torn and bleeding on
the small of the neck just behind the head, while in some cases the head
had been completely wrenched off.
The Gauchos, when snaring Partridges (Tinamous), frequently bribe the
Caranchos to assist them. The snarer has a long slender cane with a
small noose at the extremity, and when he sights a Partridge he gallops
round it in circles until the bird crouches close in the grass; then the
circles are narrowed and the pace slackened, while he extends the cane,
and lowers it gradually over the bewildered bird until the small noose
is dropped over its head and it is caught. Many Partridges are not
disposed to sit still to be taken in this open barefaced way; but if the
snarer keeps a Carancho hovering about by throwing him an occasional
gizzard, the wariest Partridge is so stricken with fear that it will sit
still and allow itself to be caught.
In the love-season the male Caranchos are frequently seen fighting; and
sometimes, when the battle is carried on at a great height in the air,
the combatants are seen clasped together and falling swiftly towards the
earth; but in all the contests I have witnessed the birds have not been
so blinded with passion as to fall the whole distance before separating.
Besides these single combats, in which unpaired or jealous males engage
in the love-season, there are at all times occasional dissensions
amongst them, the cause of which it would be difficult to determine.
Here again, as often in hunting, the birds combine to punish an
offender, and in some cases the punishment is death.
Their cry is exceedingly loud and harsh, a short abrupt note, like
_cruk_, repeated twice; after which, if the bird is violently agitated,
as when wounded or fighting, it throws its head backwards until the
crown rests on the back, and rocks it from side to side, accompanying
the action with a prolonged piercing cry of great power. This singular
gesture of the Carancho, unique among birds, seems to express very
forcibly a raging spirit, or, perhaps, rage mingled with despair.
The nest is built in a variety of situations: on trees, where there are
any, but on the treeless pampas, where the Carancho is most at home,
it is made on the ground, sometimes among the tall grass, while a very
favourite site is a small islet or mound of earth rising well out of the
water. When a suitable place has been found, the birds will continue
to use the same nest for many consecutive years. It is a very large
slovenly structure of sticks, mixed with bones, pieces of skin, dry
dung, and any portable object the bird may find to increase the bulk
of his dwelling. The eggs are three or four, usually the last number,
slightly oval, and varying greatly in colour and markings, some having
irregular dark red blotches on a cream-coloured ground, while others are
entirely of a deep brownish red, with a few black marks and blotches.