THE GRIFFON VULTURE 19 



dozen of their bigger cousins, who, when themselves 

 well fed, have allowed even the despised crows 

 to have some pickings from the feast. 



Being tied up to a bank for two or three days 

 during the Hamseen wind, which was blowing 

 a perfect gale right in our teeth, I saw a 

 curious sight of Vultures turning themselves 

 into a sort of coroner's jury on a dead buffalo. 

 In the centre of a little sheltered bay was the 

 "dear departed," who was being closely examined 

 and overhauled by a gaunt, sandy-coloured native 

 dog. There he sat like a coroner growling out his 

 observations, whilst the twelve — there were just a 

 dozen Vultures — sat placidly waiting their turn 

 for a closer study of the remains. They sat 

 so long and patiently that one was surprised 

 they did not end the matter in force, drive away 

 the presiding officer, and get to real business, but 

 we left them still waiting and seemingly discuss- 

 ing what was to be the verdict. 



Whenever one has been taken to see a Vulture 

 in captivity, either in hotel or other gardens, it 

 has usually been this, the Griffon Vulture, that 

 has been the unhappy captive. 



