Notes from Field and Study 



279 



Turkey Vultures in Northwestern Iowa 



A few years ago, when a resident of 

 Sioux City, Iowa, I had an interesting 

 experience with Turkey Vultures. One 

 day, with a companion, I was roaming 

 through a ravine on the outskirts of the 

 city, when, from the top of an enormous 

 elm, a large bird rose and flew upward to 

 a great height, where it 

 continued circling and 

 soaring, on motionless 

 pinions, an aviator of 

 marvelous skill. 



It was plainly not an 

 Eagle. But what could 

 it be? Not until I got 

 my binoculars focused 

 upon it, and could dis- 

 tinguish the naked, red 

 head, did I recognize it 

 as a Turkey Vulture, or 

 'Buzzard.' The persist- 

 ency with which the 

 bird hung about caused 

 me to suspect a nest. I 

 resolved to investigate. 

 But how should I get 

 into the tree? The huge 

 elm must have been 

 fully fifteen feet in cir- 

 cumference. Up beyond 

 the lower limbs a few 

 decayed cleats, utterly 

 unsafe, showed where 

 someone had once made 

 the ascent. I solved the 

 difficulty by procuring 

 a stout rope at the 

 nearest farmhouse. 

 After a number of un- 

 successful throws, I 

 succeeded in getting the 

 rope over the lowest limb. Then up 

 I went, hand over hand. The operation 

 was repeated until the limbs were reached 

 that were near enough for climbing. At 

 the very top there was the hollow, dead 

 shell of the main trunk; and, in this, upon 

 the bare, decayed wood, two eggs as large 

 as Turkey eggs. They were of a dirty 

 white color, heavily blotched with brown. 



amber and lilac, especially about the 

 larger end. One was larger than the other. 

 This was on May 15. 



Two weeks later, in company with Prof. 

 T. C. Stephens, of Morningside College, 

 and Dr. Guy C. Rich, both ornithologists 

 of note in that section, I again visited the 

 nest and Professor Stephens photographed 

 the nesting-site and the eggs. Twentv- 



SITE 



OF A TURKEY VULTURE'S NEST 

 Photographed by T. C. Stephens 



three days later I again visited the locality 

 and climbed to the nest. This time the 

 parent bird did not fly. I suspected the 

 cause. Not until I actually put my hand 

 upon her did she leave her post. In place 

 of the eggs, there were two snow-white 

 little fellows, fat as butter-balls, covered 

 with fuzzy down. They smelled atro- 

 ciously, however, for the parent bird 



