TROPICAL BIRDS OF PREY.
The Condor--His Marvellous Flight--His Cowardice--Various Modes of
Capturing Condors--Ancient Fables circulated about them--Comparison
of the Condor with the Albatross--The Carrion Vultures--The King
of the Vultures--Domestication of the Urubu--Its Extraordinary
Memory--The Harpy Eagle--Examples of his Ferocity--The Oricou--
The Bacha--His Cruelty to the Klipdachs--The Fishing Eagle of
Africa--The Musical Sparrow-hawk--The Secretary Eagle.
The flight of the Condor is truly wonderful. From the mountain-plains
of the Andes, the royal bird, soaring aloft, appears only like a small
black speck on the sky, and a few hours afterwards he descends to the
coast and mixes his loud screech with the roar of the surf. No living
creature rises _voluntarily_ so high, none traverses in so short a
time all the climates of the globe. He rests at night in the crevices
of the rocks, or on some jutting ledge; but as soon as the first rays
of the sun light the high mountain peaks, while the darkness of night
still rests upon the deeper valleys, he stretches forth his neck,
shakes his head as if fully to rouse himself, stoops over the brink
of the abyss, and flapping his wings, dives into the aërial ocean.
At first his flight is by no means strong; he sinks as if borne down
by his weight; but soon he ascends, and sweeps through the rarefied
atmosphere without any perceptible vibratory motion of his wings. ‘Near
Lima,’ says Mr Darwin, ‘I watched several condors for nearly half an
hour without once taking off my eyes. They moved in large curves,
sweeping in circles, descending and ascending without once flapping.
As they glided close over my head, I intently watched from an oblique
position the outlines of the separate and terminal feathers of the
wing; if there had been the least vibratory movement these would have
blended together, but they were seen distinct against the blue sky.
The head and neck were moved frequently and apparently with force,
and it appeared that the extended wings formed the fulcrum on which
the movements of the neck, body, and tail acted. If the bird wished
to descend, the wings were for a moment collapsed, and then, when
again expanded with an altered inclination, the momentum gained by the
rapid descent seemed to urge the bird upwards with the even and steady
movement of a paper kite.’
Like other vultures, the condor feeds only upon dead carcases, or
on new-born lambs and calves, whom he tears from the side of their
mothers. He thus does so much damage to the herds, that the shepherds
pursue and kill him whenever they can. As even a bullet frequently
glances off from his thick feathery coat, the natives never use
fire-arms for his destruction, but make use of various traps, of the
sling, or of the _bolas_, which they are able to throw with marvellous
dexterity.
In the Peruvian province of Abacay, an Indian provided with cords
conceals himself under a fresh cow’s skin, to which some pieces of
flesh are left attached. The condors soon pounce upon the prey, but
while they are feasting, he fastens their legs to the skin. This being
accomplished, he suddenly comes forth; and the alarmed birds vainly
flap their wings, for other Indians hurry towards them, throw their
mantles or their lassos over them, and carry the condors to their
village, where they are reserved for the next bull fight. For a full
week before this spectacle is to take place, the bird gets nothing to
eat, and is then bound upon the back of a bull which has previously
been scarified with lances. The bellowing of the poor animal, lacerated
by the famished vulture, and vainly striving to cast off its tormentor,
amuses what may well be called the ‘swinish multitude.’
In the province of Huarochirin there is a large natural funnel-shaped
excavation, about sixty feet deep, with a diameter of about eighty
feet at the top. A dead mule is placed on the brink of the precipice.
The tugging of the condors at the dead carcase causes it to fall
into the hole; they follow it with greedy haste, and having gorged
themselves with food, are unable again to rise from the narrow bottom
of the funnel. In a somewhat similar manner condors are caught in
Peru, Bolivia, and Chili, and are frequently brought to Valparaiso and
Callao, where they are sold for a few dollars to the foreign ships, and
thence conveyed to Europe.
The condor, though a very large bird, about four feet long and
measuring at least three yards from tip to tip of his extended wings,
is far from attaining the dimensions assigned to him by the earlier
writers and naturalists, who, emulating Sinbad the Sailor, in his
account of the fabulous roc, described him as a giant whose bulk
darkened the air.
The condor reminds us of the Albatross. As the former sweeps in
majestic circles high above the Andes, the latter soars gracefully over
the ocean, ‘and without ever touching the water with his wings, rises
with the rising billow and falls with the falling wave.’[33] If the
wonderful power of wing which bears the condor, often within the space
of a few hours, from the sea-shore into the highest regions of the
air, and the strength of breast which is able to support such changes
of atmospheric pressure, may well raise our wonder, the indomitable
pinions of the albatross are no less admirable. Both are unable to
take wing from a narrow space, and both finally, so lordly in their
movements, feed in the same ignoble manner, the condor pouncing from
incredible distances upon the carcase of the mule or lama, while the
albatross gorges upon the fat of the stranded whale.
[Illustration: TURKEY BUZZARD.]
While the condor is considered an enemy to man, the Gallinazos,
turkey-buzzards, or common American Carrion Vultures (_Vultur aura_,
_V. urubu_), are very serviceable to him, by consuming the animal
offals which, if left to putrefaction, would produce a pestilence. Thus
they generally, in tropical America, enjoy the protection of the law,
a heavy fine being imposed upon the offender who wantonly kills one of
these scavengers. It is consequently not to be wondered at that, like
domestic birds, they congregate in flocks in the streets of Lima, and
sleep upon the roofs of the houses.
According to Mr. Wallace the Carrion Vultures, though commonly supposed
to have very acute olfactory nerves, depend entirely on sight in
seeking out their food. While he was skinning a bird, a dozen of them
used to be always waiting attendance at a moderate distance. The moment
he threw away a piece of meat they would all run up to seize it; but
it frequently happened to fall in a little hollow of the ground or
among some grass, and then they would hop about, searching within a
foot of it, and very often go away without finding it. A piece of stick
or paper would bring them down just as rapidly, and after seeing what
it was they would quietly go back to their former places. They always
choose elevated stations, evidently to see what food they can discover,
and when soaring at an immense height in the air, they will descend
where some animal has died long before it emits any strong smell.
[Illustration: CONDOR CATCHING.]
It is a remarkable fact that, though hundreds of gallinazos may be
feeding upon a carcase, they immediately retire when the King of the
Vultures (_Sarcoramphus papa_) makes his appearance, who yet is not
larger than themselves. Perching on the neighbouring trees, they wait
till his majesty--a beautiful bird, with a gaudily coloured head and
neck--has sufficiently gorged himself, and then pounce down with
increased voracity upon their disgusting meal.
The Indians of Guiana sometimes amuse themselves with catching a
gallinazo by means of a piece of meat attached to a hook, and decking
him with a variety of strange feathers, which they attach to him with
soft wax. Thus travestied, they turn him out again among his comrades,
who, to their great delight, fly in terror from the nondescript; and it
is only after wind and weather have stripped him of his finery that the
outlaw is once more admitted into their society.
When full of food this vulture, like the other members of his tribe,
appears an indolent bird. He will stand for hours together on a branch
of a tree, or on the top of a house, with his wings drooping, or after
rain, spreading them to catch the rays of the sun. But when in quest of
prey, he may be seen soaring aloft on pinions which never flutter, and
at the same time carry him with a rapidity equal to that of the golden
eagle. Scarcely has he espied a piece of carrion below, when, folding
his broad wings, he descends with such speed as to produce a whistling
sound, resembling that of an arrow cleaving the air.
The gallinazos when taken young can be so easily tamed that they
will follow the person who feeds them for many miles. D’Orbigny even
mentions one of these birds that was so attached to its master that it
accompanied him, like a dog, wherever he went. During a serious illness
of its patron, the door of the bedroom having been left open, the bird
eagerly flew in, and expressed a lively joy at seeing him again.
The Harpy Eagle (_Thrasaëtus harpyia_) is one of the finest of all the
rapacious birds. The enormous development of his beak and legs, and
his consequent strength and power in mastering his prey, correspond
with his bold and noble bearing and the fierce lustre of his eye. His
whole aspect is that of formidably organised power, and even the crest
adds much to his terrific appearance. ‘Among many singular birds and
curiosities,’ says Mr. Edwards, in his ‘Voyage up the Amazon,’ ‘that
were brought to us, was a young harpy eagle, a most ferocious looking
character, with a high crest and a beak and talons in correspondence.
He was turned loose into the garden, and before long gave us a
sample of his powers. With erected crest and flashing eyes, uttering
a frightful shriek, he pounced upon a young ibis, and quicker than
thought had torn his reeking liver from his body. The whole animal
world there was wild with fear.’
[Illustration: HARPY EAGLE.]
The harpy attains a greater size than the common eagle. He chiefly
resides in the damp lowlands of tropical America, where Prince
Maximilian of Neu Wied met with him only in the dense forests, perched
on the high branches. The monkey, vaulting by means of his tail from
tree to tree, mocks the pursuit of the tiger-cat and boa, but woe to
him if the harpy spies him out, for seizing him with lightning-like
rapidity, he cleaves his skull with one single stroke of his beak.
Fear seems to be totally unknown to this noble bird, and he defends
himself to the last moment. D’Orbigny relates that one day, while
descending a Bolivian river in a boat with some Indians, they severely
wounded a harpy with their arrows, so that it fell from the branch
on which it had been struck. Stepping out of the canoe, the savages
now rushed to the spot where the bird lay, knocked it on the head,
and tearing out the feathers of its wings, brought it for dead to the
boat. Yet the harpy awakened from his trance, and furiously attacked
his persecutors. Throwing himself upon D’Orbigny he pierced his hand
through and through with the only talon that had been left unhurt,
while the mangled remains of the other tore his arm, which at the same
time he lacerated with his beak. Two men were hardly able to release
the naturalist from the attacks of the ferocious bird.
On turning from the New to the Old World, we find other but not less
interesting raptorial birds sweep through the higher regions of the air
in quest of prey. The gigantic oricou, or Sociable Vulture (_Vultur
auricularis_), inhabits the greater part of Africa, and builds his nest
in the fissures of rocks on the peaks of inaccessible mountains. In
size he equals the condor, and his flight is not less bold; leaving his
lofty cavern at dawn, he rises higher and higher, till he is lost to
sight; but, though beyond the sphere of human vision, the telescopic
eye of the bird is at work. The moment any animal sinks to the earth in
death, the unseen vulture detects it. Does the hunter bring down some
large quadruped, beyond his powers to remove, and leave it to obtain
assistance?--on his return, however speedy, he finds it surrounded by
a band of vultures, where not one was to be seen a quarter of an hour
before.
[Illustration: SOCIABLE VULTURE.]
Le Vaillant having once killed three zebras, hastened to his camp, at
about a league’s distance, to fetch a wagon; but on returning he found
nothing but the bones, at which hundreds of oricous were busy picking.
Another time, having killed a gazelle, he left the carcase on the sand,
and retired into the bushes to observe what would happen. First came
crows, who with loud croakings wheeled round the dead animal: then
after a few minutes kites and buzzards appeared, and finally he saw
the oricous descending from an enormous height. They alighted upon the
gazelle, and soon hundreds of raptorial birds were assembled. Thus the
small robbers had first pointed out the way to those of middle size,
who in their turn roused the attention of the bandits of a higher
order; and none of them came too short, for after the powerful oricous
had dismembered the carcase, some very good morsels remained for the
buzzards, and the bones furnished excellent pickings for the crows.
The Bacha (_Falco bacha_, Daudin) inhabits India and Africa, where he
sits for days on the peak of precipitous cliffs, on the look-out for
rock-rabbits (_Hyrax Capensis_). These poor animals, who have good
reason to be on their guard, venture only with the greatest caution to
peep out of the caves and crevices in which they take up their abode,
and to which they owe their Dutch name of ‘klipdachs.’ Meanwhile the
bacha remains immovable, as if he were part of the rock on which he
perches, his head muffled up in his shoulders, but watching with a
sharp eye every movement of his prey, until, finally, some unfortunate
klipdachs venturing forth, he darts upon him like a thunderbolt. If
this rapid attack proves unsuccessful, the bacha slinks away, ashamed,
like a lion that has missed his spring, and seeks some new observatory,
for he is well aware that no rock-rabbit in the neighbourhood will
venture to stroll out during the remainder of the day. But if he
succeeds in seizing the klipdachs before it has time to leap away,
he carries it to a rocky ledge, and slowly tears it to pieces. The
terrible cries of the animal appear to sound like music in his ears, as
if he were not only satisfying his hunger but rejoicing in the torments
of an enemy. This scene of cruelty spreads terror far and wide, and
for a long time no klipdachs will be seen where the bacha has held his
bloody repast.
The Fishing Eagle of Africa (_Haliætus vocifer_), first noticed by Le
Vaillant, may be seen hovering about the coasts and river-mouths of
that vast continent. He is never found in the interior of the country,
as the African streams are but thinly stocked with fish, which form his
principal food. ‘Elastic and buoyant, this agile dweller in the air
mounts to soaring heights scanning with sharp and piercing eye the
motions of his prey below. Energetic in his movements, impetuous in
his appetites, he pounces with the velocity of a meteor on the object
of his wishes, and with a wild and savage joy tears it to pieces. His
whole sense of existence is the procuring of food, and for this he is
ever on the alert, ever ready to combat, to ravage, and destroy.’[34]
He generally devours his prey on the nearest rock, and loves to return
to the same spot where the bones of gazelles and lizards may be seen
lying about, a proof that his appetite is not solely confined to the
finny tribes. When these birds are sitting, they call and answer each
other with a variously-toned shriek which they utter under curious
movements of the head and neck.
While all other raptorial birds croak or shriek, the musical Sparrow
Hawk of Africa (_Melierca musicus_, Gray) pours forth his morning
and evening notes to entertain his mate while she is performing the
business of incubation. Every song lasts a minute, and then the hunter
may approach, but during the pause he is obliged to remain perfectly
quiet, as then the bird hears the least noise and immediately flies
away.
The prowess of the Secretary Eagle (_Serpentarius cristatus_) attacking
the most venomous serpents has already been mentioned. The long legs
of this useful bird, which owes its name of secretary to the crest on
the back of its head, reminding one of the pen stuck behind the ear,
according to the custom of writing-clerks, might give one reason to
reckon it, at first sight, among the cranes or storks, but its curved
beak and internal organisation prove it to belong to the falcon tribe.
Its feet being incapable of grasping, it keeps constantly on the ground
in sandy and open places, and runs with such speed as to be able to
overtake the most agile reptiles. The destruction it causes in their
ranks must be as great as its own enviable powers of digestion, for Le
Vaillant mentions that having killed one of these birds he found in its
crop eleven rather large lizards, three serpents of an arm’s length,
and eleven small tortoises, besides a number of locusts, beetles, and
other insects, swallowed most likely by way of dessert.
[Illustration: OSTRICH CATCHING.]