276 A Day in the Lower Sierra 
the passage, it was simple enough to descend chimney - sweep 
fashion and as I neared the bottom, I became aware of a gleam 
of light coming somewhere from the direction where I knew the 
face of the cliff must be. 
This was most reassuring and next moment I found myself at 
the innermost end of a narrow but lofty cavern, the floor of which 
sloped steeply away to my front. Proceeding cautiously along 
this, on rounding a rock I saw in front of me the great untidy 
nest of a Griffon Vulture literally lying on the sloping floor and 
about a couple of feet from the mouth of the cavern, which opened * 
out on the face of the main cliff. In it was a baby Vulture, about 
the size of a duck and covered with white down. The moment it 
caught sight of me, it, as usual, shammed death, laying its hideous 
ungainly head sideways flat on the bottom of the nest and remain- 
ing perfectly motionless in that uncomfortable attitude. 
I was busy getting my camera into position when a great rush 
of wings told me that one of the old birds was returning. Next 
moment a Griffon with legs extended alighted with a mighty 
commotion, on the shelving rock within a few feet of me and just 
beside the nest. Hardly had it folded its great wings and 
recovered its balance when it spied me and, turning, dashed off 
with a great rustle and rush. 
Having photographed the young bird, I moved up to the 
nest and stood on the rock recently tenanted by the parent. 
I found I had emerged on the face of the cliff, some 200 ft. from 
its base and perhaps 100 ft. below the summit and was in the 
midst of the colony of Vultures. On an open ledge across a chasm 
and only some 15 ft. from me was another baby Vulture in its nest. 
With a view to seeing what else was near me, I now gave a shout 
and immediately some half-dozen of these great birds quitted 
the caverns and fissures in the cliff adjacent to my position. Now 
ensued a most interesting time for a lover of wild birds in their 
