— 
bo 
bo 
FIFTEEN DAYS ON THE DANUBE. 
for some feathers dropped, but again the shot rattled off it 
without taking effect, and for a moment I thought with 
horror that my cartridges could only be loaded with powder, 
as such a thing had never happened to me before. The other 
six vultures were not the least frightened by the shots, and 
came sweeping over me one after another; but I had lost all 
desire to shoot at these huge birds, and let them fly quietly 
past. 
We now hastened up a steep slope to the nest, and as it 
was not quite so strongly constructed as the one above 
described, I really thought for a moment that we should here 
find a noble “ Stein” Eagle, nor was it until the tree had been 
repeatedly struck that the heavy form of a Cinereous Vulture 
emerged from the nest. Luckily I had chosen a good look- 
out, and gave it my first barrel loaded with B.B. full in the 
breast, and as it crashed down through the branches hard hit 
the second shot broke its wing. 
Now, thought I, that is at last enough for this bird; but, 
no, it caught hold of a branch, and as it stood upright with 
its broken wing hanging down, its bare neck and head full of 
wounds and covered with blood, and its’ beak wide agape, it 
presented a striking picture. Another shot was required to 
bring it quite down to the eround, and a good many blows 
with a thick stick to give it its final quietus. 
I hurried up to my spoil, pleased and proud at having at 
last succeeded in killing a Cinereous Vulture; but my en- 
thusiasm was promptly checked when I got close to the dead 
bird, for such an insupportable stench of carrion surrounded 
the body of the disgusting 
@ creature, that [ was compelled to 
retire several paces. How often had I previously laughed at 
Brehm when he protested that not for all the wealth of the 
world would he ever again skin one of these vultures with 
his own hands! 
This ignoble bird, with its very weak claws, never lives 
