HAGLES ¢ VULTURES IN THE CARPATHIANS. 405 
get them into the camera; and I felt sure that the light was 
sufficient, and all the conditions most favourable. After thus 
exposing seven or eight plates I carefully moved on one side the 
camera after loading my rifle, which rested against the rock 
behind me, and, taking as good an aim as I could in my cramped 
and awkward position, I fired, and the Hagle disappeared into 
space behind the horse down the side of the mountain. 
One reason for shooting this bird was, as I have said, because 
it was the only chance of photographing the Vultures which I 
knew were anxious to come, and the other was that I wished to 
be sure in my identification of it as a Golden Kagle (Aquila 
chrysaétus). In my own mind I was sure it was so, from the 
whiteness of the basal half of the tail, as well as from the build 
and general characteristics of the bird, but I could not be sure 
that the photographs would show these distinguishing features 
plainly enough to make it certain. 
Of course, I dare not show myself in any attempt to find the 
Hagle—that must be left until the Jager should come up as usual 
to let me out of my prison in the evening. In the meantime the 
camera was replaced and re-focussed in the hope of further 
visitors. Sure enough, before twenty minutes had elapsed the 
wished for and expected Vultures put in their appearance. But 
their manner of doing so was very curious, and nearly ied to 
their detecting my presence. Though I quite hoped and ex- 
pected they would come, I did not think that they would return 
so quickly, and when I heard just outside a dreadful sighing and 
moaning, as if something was dying in the greatest agony, 
I never thought about Vultures, but made sure it was the Hagle 
Thad shot. The sounds were so painful to hear that I moved 
away the camera and loaded the rifle again in order to put it 
out of its pain, but on looking out of the small hole left for the 
lens I perceived, not the dying Eagle, as I had expected, but an 
immense Griffon Vulture advancing to the carcase. I was afraid 
that it must have seen me, but at once drew back, and, putting 
down the rifle, replaced the camera in position, and, as it still 
remained, photographed it as quickly as I could. 
It was the extraordinary noises made by these birds—for 
there were three of them—which had deceived me. For some 
time the one first seen succeeded in keeping the rest of the party 
