The Sea and the Cave 71 



King vulture of tropical America. There is nothing of the 

 linpleasant appearance when you see them near by that 

 marks our turkey buzzards or more particularly the vul- 

 tures of the Old World, many of which are inexpressibly 

 loathsome. But it was not the condors which gave us the 

 greatest thrill but rather the giant hummers. Scientists know 

 this bird as Fatagona gigas; it is the largest member of that 

 most numerous family of birds, the Trochilidae. Patagona 

 does not share the beauty of form and color of most of 

 the members of this group. It is purely remarkable for its 

 size — considering that it is a hummingbird — for it is nearly 

 as big as a robin. Of a dull, rusty gray-brown color, it sits 

 stupidly perched on sticks and stones, is quite tame, and is 

 awkward in shape. It is cylindrical in appearance as its rests 

 with its long wings folded. It may not sound like a very 

 exciting bird to behold, but it gave me an everlasting thrill. 



While our colleagues on the trip had been transported 

 from railhead to railhead in horse-drawn coaches, we trav- 

 eled on horseback, reaching the Chilean side on a day 

 when there was no train. By great good fortune we found 

 that some of the railway engineers were going down to 

 Santa Rosa in a gravity car and they took us "down the 

 hill" with them. 



We all sat bunched up on an open platform with noth- 

 ing to hang onto — and how we jerked as we took the 

 curves! From Juncal down to Santa Rosa is a vertical drop 

 of about 10,000 feet: we took it at a rush through tunnels 

 and over trestles with nothing but a hand brake between 

 us and the blue. There was a burro on the tracks near the 

 end of a long tunnel, but we shouted him out of the way 

 just in time. The engineers had broken all rules in taking 



