SCAVENGERS 131 



Not the least beautiful phase of the buzzard's life 

 is the perfect loving obedience of the children. They 

 exhibit a sweet and gentle disposition under the 

 most trying circumstances. Surely human children 

 might well learn from the young buzzards a lesson 

 of filial obedience and respect that would redound 

 to the charm of the human family. 



Young buzzards, when they first come out of the 

 shell, are covered with white down, like a soft, fluffy 

 ball. They are fed upon food disgorged by their 

 parents. When reared in captivity, they are very 

 tame, and will eat almost anything from earth- 

 worms to fresh meat and bread. Their service 

 around a house is too well known to need mention. 

 They are easily trained to do tricks, and soon learn 

 just how to please their masters. The chief objec- 

 tion to them is the peculiarly offensive odour that 

 seems to hover always with them. But perhaps this 

 is largely due to the nature of their food. 



The vultures — the kings of the scavenger world 

 — are the ugliest of all their profession. Most of 

 them are bald-headed, snaky-necked, milky-eyed 

 creatures, more horrid than the mythical harpies of 

 old. They have the wings of a Gabriel, but the head 

 and neck of a Lucifer. Even a jackal would look 

 respectable in company with these repulsive crea- 

 tures. They can plunge their hideous bald heads 



