278 BOMBAY DUCKS 
is, like Ally Sloper, a true friend of man. How we 
should get on without him in that land of primitive 
sanitation—India—I know not. Secondly, this vulture 
is, in South India, or, at any rate, in some parts of the 
Madras Presidency, a sacred bird. 
The ancient Egyptians, also, seem to have held “ His 
Riverence” in high esteem, for several portraits of the 
nearly allied Egyptian species are displayed in the 
museum of antiquities at Cairo. 
Before dilating upon the virtues of the noble fowl 
it is necessary to describe it. The bird is delightfully 
easy to depict. There is no other creature like unto it. 
It is about the size ofakite. Its plumage is dirty white, 
except the tips of the wings, which are shabby black. 
The neck is covered with feathers, which stick out like 
the back hairs of a schoolboy. These are, if possible, 
rather dirtier-looking than the rest of the plumage, and 
frequently assume a rusty hue. Its bill is yellow, so 
are its naked face and its legs. 
As “ Eha” remarks: “It does not stand upright, like 
the true vultures, but carries its body like a duck and 
steps like a recruit.” 
There is told a story, which has by this time become 
quite a seasoned “chestnut,” of a keen “griffin” going 
out with his gun on the day after his arrival at his first 
station in India. His bag for the day consisted of one 
Neophron ginginianus. This he sent, on the advice of 
a fellow-subaltern, to his Colonel’s wife, with a polite 
note expressing the hope that she would accept the 
results of his first day’s shikar. The inventor of this 
story might read with benefit a certain address de- 
