MY FIRST CONDOR 



known I was weary. If there had been nobody 

 near, I believe I should have shouted. 



For the hour or more that I remained at the 

 summit I took two looks heavenward to one at 

 the earthly prospect, beautiful as that was ; and 

 all the way down to the tavern I was continually 

 stopping to see whether peradventure the vulture 

 might not be again somewhere above me. That, 

 I was to learn, was asking a little too much of 

 Dame Fortune. Already I had received far more 

 than my share of her favors, as the ornithologist 

 before mentioned gave me emphatically to under- 

 stand when I narrated to him my day's adventure. 

 Many a good Californian, I understood him, had 

 desired to see what I had seen, and had died 

 without the sight. 



Within a week, indeed, I was to have another 

 and much longer and more satisfying interview 

 with the same bird, or another like him ; but that 

 is part of another story. Enough to say now that 

 he looked half as large again the second time as 

 he did the first, and that I am more than ever a 

 believer in that mysterious and delectable some- 

 thing which goes by the name of " green hands' 

 luck." 



