432 The Bearded Vulture 
got no response. Repeated whistles had no effect and I heard 
indistinct shouts in reply, so knew that something was wrong and 
that once again the rope was jambed. Was there to be no end 
to my ill-luck ? 
Suddenly I bethought me that probably in hauling myself 
towards the nest on the life-line I had given the lowering line a 
“foul lead” through one of the narrow fissures between the 
vertical strata and had thus jambed it. So it was. Therefore, 
giving a shrill blast ‘“‘ Hold hard,” I eased up the life-line and 
swung back on the other rope and as it took my full weight | 
felt it give up and I knew that it had cleared itself. Looking 
down I saw my life-line was touching the ledge about 30 ft. below 
and so | signalled “lower” and after doing tee-totum for a few 
yards, due to the overhanging cliff, landed upon the ledge in 
safety. Thence I made my way down to the talus and on to 
the mules below, where we all foregathered with as much fortitude 
as we could command. 
Happily our troubles and exertions on this day were to a great 
extent forgotten owing to other matters of absorbing interest. One 
of the greatest attractions in the quest of wild birds in their haunts, 
especially in a wild country such as Spain, are the innumerable 
possible compensations which from time to time may serve to 
assuage one’s wounded feelings and cause one to forget the dis- 
appointment of a failure such as I have just described. 
It was on the return journey from the second fruitless expedition 
to the Bearded Vulture’s cliff that I had the great good fortune to 
witness an exhibition of the ways and habits of that bird which 
falls to the lot of few. 
Most people who have read about birds are well aware that 
this species is credited with the habit of carrying the larger bones 
of defunct animals high into the air and dropping them on some 
rock in order to smash them and thus get at the marrow. Hence 
