FIELD-DAYS IN CALIFORNIA 



casting frequent glances skyward in search of the 

 California condor. Unless it were the mountain- 

 top, there could be no place where my chance of 

 seeing him should be better. And sure enough, 

 while I was still shut between the rocky walls, I 

 looked up once more ; and there he hung, in mid- 

 air, a mile or so, it might be, overhead. Twice 

 he turned in such a way that the sunlight shone 

 full upon the under surface of his wings, lighting 

 up the white coverts. It was he, my second sight 

 of him. And this time how big he looked ! 



He disappeared all too quickly, but within fif- 

 teen minutes, when I had sat down in a little 

 wider space to rest, with more sky-room overhead, 

 I beheld him again. Now, by good luck, he was 

 soaring in circles, and remained in sight a long 

 while; and as often as he came about, those snow- 

 white patches were illuminated. Higher and 

 higher he rose, till if I lowered my glass I had 

 hard work to find him again ; and the greater the 

 height, so it seemed, the larger he looked. Like 

 Niagara and other such wonders, he was growing 

 upon me. 



I lost him at last, and had gone a good piece 

 farther, when the same bird, or possibly another, 

 came into sight once more, this time moving in 

 a straight course with wings set. Half a mile, at 

 least, I must have watched him fly without a 

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