8 BULLETIN 16 7, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



Brown's own words : "Presently one of the Condors gave up the fight, sailed 

 a mile or so to the eastward, and, after circling to gain elevation, made away 

 in a bee line for the southeast. In a short time the other three went through 

 the same manoeuver and followed after their companion. I now brought my 

 telescope into action and I never took the glass off the birds although they 

 became mere specks in the sky. The Condors did not swerve from their course 

 until they entered the spiral cloud. Upon striking that ascending column of air 

 they rose rapidly, apparently without effort, as a balloon might rise, being now 

 and again lost to view in the fleecy folds of ascending vapor, until within an 

 incredibly short space of time they emerged above the clouds, into a higher 

 region of absolute clearness, say three miles above the earth. Here they must 

 have found themselves well above and quite free from the lower currents of 

 air which had plagued them, for now they sailed straight to the westward, 

 descended and — glided triumphantly homeward on the wings of their ancient 

 enemy, the southwest gale! 



"I do not think that moi-e than thirty minutes had elapsed from the time 

 the Condors gave up the fight till they were safely at roost in their rookery ; 

 yet these birds must have traveled somewhere from fifty to seventy miles to 

 accomplish their purpose, and the whole performance took place without the 

 flap of a wing." 



Audubon (1840) quotes J. K. Townsend as saying: "In walking 

 they resemble a Turkey, strutting over the ground with great dig- 

 nity; but this dignity is occasionally lost sight of, especially when 

 two are striving to reach a dead fish, which has just been cast on 

 the shore; the stately walk then degenerates into a clumsy sort of 

 hopping canter, which is any thing but graceful," 



California condors are generally considered to be very shy birds; 

 most observers have been unable to approach them near enough for 

 an effective shot with a gun or even a rifle ; but there are exceptions 

 to the rule. W. R. Flint in 1884, was able to approach to within 30 

 yards of a flock of 14, according to Bendire (1892) ; and Dr. Cooper 

 (1890) walked right up to an apparently healthy adult bird and 

 could have killed it with a hammer. Mr. Finley (1908) won the 

 confidence of the pair of condors that he studied, as is amply illus- 

 trated in the marvelous series of pictures he and Mr. Bohlman took 

 within a few feet of them. These birds were very gentle and 

 affectionate with each other and with their offspring. Mr. Finley 

 (1908) writes: 



While ascending the steep slope to the nest, a large bowlder was accidentally 

 loosened and narrowly missed taking the camera man along as it dropped 

 into the canyon with a loud report. The next moment, the old condor, aroused 

 from her nest, flapped to her perch in the dead tree directly over our heads. 

 We watched and waited, hoping she would return to the nest. But after 

 about fifteen minutes, she raised her wings, hooked her bill about the stump, 

 parrot fashion, and climbed to a higher perch. We crawled on up behind a 

 cover of rocks to get a picture. While fixing the camera, I looked up and the 

 old male was just alighting beside his mate on the dead tree. We crouched 

 down to watch. If the birds saw us, they paid no attention to our presence. 

 The mother edged along the limb and put her head under his neck. Then she 



