aromatic shrubs at their bases. The young Griffons
remain in their nests till June, and, although I am well
aware that these birds can live without suffering from a
want of food for almost incredible periods, it is a constant
subject of wonder how the great numbers that
inhabit Southern Spain can possibly find the means of
subsistence. To those who have never visited a country
where Vultures are virtually the only efficient inspectors
of nuisances and scavengers, it will perhaps be difficult
to believe that in Andalucia I have very frequently seen
more of this species at the same time than I could possibly
count, soaring in concentric circles, tier above tier,
if I may use the term, over the carcases of horned cattle
and horses. A more disgusting sight than some twenty
or more of these huge birds tearing at and quarrelling
over the remains of a semi-putrid beast can hardly be
imagined, but on wing, and high in air, the Griffon is
a magnificent bird as he sails for hours at a time with
hardly any perceptible motion in the splendid deep blue
of an Andalucian summer sky. I have called the eggs
of this species “ white,” but some specimens show
blotches and spots of iron-rust colour. I am not aware
that the Griffon in Europe ever nests in trees, or,
indeed, in any other locality than cliffs; but, although
the nests are generally very difficult of access, this is by
no means invariably the case. The subject of the Plate
was taken from an isolated nest near Irun in May 1867
by a shepherd-lad who clambered up to it from below,
and to his and our own astonishment met us prepared
for the capture of the nestling with ropes and a hired
climber at the top of the cliff. We had started from
San Sebastian under the guidance of an English friend,
who had discovered the nest some days previously, and
had engaged mules, climber, and ropes at Irun for the
attack, having to make a considerable detour to reach
the summit of the scrub-covered range of cliffs above
the coveted object. On approaching the spot from
which we intended to commence operations, we became
aware of both the parent-birds in evident agitation,
sailing about at a level with the top of the cliff, and
we had hardly reached it, when a merry young Basque
appeared singing and swinging the young Griffon in one
hand. We added to his hilarity by giving him a small
silver coin, a cup of wine, and a handful of tobacco in
exchange for the young Vulture, which we carried back
to San Sebastian. I was bound on an expedition
through Navarra and into Aragon, and left our not very
fascinating prize in charge of the daughters of our host
of the ‘ Parador Real,’ hardly expecting ever to see it
again, as these damsels, although most obliging and
attentive to their guests, could not be supposed to take
much interest in a strong-smelling and ugly carrion-
bird, belonging to a stranger. I crossed the frontier
on my return to England by another route, sending a
servant to enquire after my Vulture, and bring it on, if
alive, to meet me at Bordeaux; to my surprise and
pleasure, he found the bird in perfect health, very
much grown, and quite tame, and assured me that the
“ Senoritas ” had parted with their charge with tears
. and all manner of caresses, that might well have been
bestowed on more appreciative objects. I, however,
had, and still have, good reason to be grateful for the