July, 1907 MEASURING A CONDOR 107 



Strange bedfellow and began kicking frantically at the intruder and making in- 

 articulate noises with his mouth. The bird seized him by one foot, fortunately he 

 had retired with his boots on, but we rushed to the rescue and shoo-ed the com- 

 batants apart. 



We were all very cautious about approaching Mr. Vulture, as familiarity might 

 breed calamity. Only a short time before, an Indian had lost about half the fleshy 

 part of his thumb by undue proximity to the captive's beak. Another Indian had 

 the skin stripped from a finger by trying to pull away after the bird had seized it. 

 The owner finally lassoed the great vulture and we proceeded to measure him. 

 The number of assistants the process required reminded me of the old nursery 

 rhyme telling how many people it took to extract the lacteal fluid from an ancient 

 female specimen of Ovis doniestica. 



One man took firm hold of the bird's big neck and head; another grasped the 

 feet; two extended the wings while two others stretched a tape line across the ex- 

 panse of wing. Owing to the fracture we could not fully expand one of the wings, 

 so the bird measured only 9 feet 10)^ inches. I estimated that the wing would 

 have been three inches longer if normal, thus making the expanse well over ten 

 feet. On account of difficulty with the broken wing we did not attempt any other 

 measurements. The owner told me he had killed a female the year before that 

 measured twelve feet across the wings. I am told of another specimen shot several 

 years ago that measured over eleven feet. 



While we were taking the bird's measure a diversion was created by a ten year 

 old boy who was "rubbering" and got too close to the business end of the vulture. 

 The boy's cries called attention to the fact that one of his fingers was in the vise- 

 like grip of the beak. A man instantly seized the boy to prevent him from pulling 

 back, and a chisel had to be used before the bulldog hold on the finger could be 

 loosened. We examined the finger and found blood blisters on each side — just as 

 if it had been pounded with a hammer. These instances showing the mouth power 

 of the Condor give me a proper appreciation of the nerve and courage of Mr. Fin- 

 ley as shown by his "bearding the lion in his den," the Condor in his lair. 



My acquaintance with the California Vulture or Condor has been limited, tho 

 of long standing. In former years when stock-raising was of much importance in 

 our locality the birds were comparatively numerous; while now the sight of a speci- 

 men is a rare treat, at least in my part of southern California. During the summer of 

 1888 I visited Bear Valley and Holcomb Valley in San Bernardino County and saw a 

 number of them. Many cattle ranged there during the summer months and fur- 

 nished food for both buzzards and Condors. I counted fourteen of the great birds 

 around a dead steer one day, while a big flock of buzzards stood at a safe distance 

 waiting for the "core." 



For several years a pair of Condors frequented Snow Creek falls, about sixteen 

 miles east of Banning, California, on the north slope of San Jacinto peak. Their 

 nest was situated in a big fissure half way up on a precipitous 500-foot rocky wall, 

 and to reach, would require wings, a balloon, or 300 feet of rope along with more 

 daring than most men possess. I know of no attempt being made to approach it 

 and finally some hunter shot one of the birds. Now the place knows Vultures no 

 longer. 



Another pair nested for some time in the San Jacinto range about ten miles 

 east of Banning. The nest, as in the other instance, was in a cave or fissure high 

 on the side of a cliff which overhung at the top — as near inaccessible as could well 

 be. I do not know of anyone molesting the birds, but they have not been seen for 



