370 Unexplored Spain 
One resource remained—to climb on to the top; and even in 
that direction a single bad rock might cut off escape. No such 
crowning catastrophe befell, but it was tooth-and-claw work, every 
yard of it, and the vertical height could not have been less than 
1000 feet. 
While thus “clawing up” I recollect passing a perfect glory 
in orchids—great twin purple blooms, golden-tipped and quite 
amorphous in outline. They grew just beyond my reach. Curious 
recumbent ferns clung to the rocks; anemones and violet-like 
bouquets peered from each cranny. 
Meanwhile L., approaching from the other side, had examined 
the rock-stacks and succeeded in attaining one main objective— 
the nest of the eagle-owl. This was in a rock-cavern, close by 
that of ’83, easy of access—indeed the great owl flew out in his 
face as he passed below. The cave (four feet high by two 
wide) was at the foot of a vertical limestone cliff, its floor level 
with a goat-track that skirted the crag, and fully exposed to view ; 
there was no nest nor any debris. Two young owls in white 
down, with one egg actually ‘ chipping,” lay on the bare earth. 
One of the griffon’s nests still contained (on April 8) a fresh 
egg, which is now in the writer's collection as a memorial of that 
day. We had secured all we had expected in the Puerta de 
Palomas—and something more besides. 
