us, got into trouble, for Don Enrique, who was carrying the fowling-piece loaded with swan-shot, jumped off his horse, and brought down the bird with thundering rush at our feet. The other pannier was now loaded, and off we trudged to another brow, when our host left us, giving us special directions as to the road to be followed.
Condor-hunters are especially welcomed to the Sierras, as the birds commit great havoc amongst the herds. They will attack a calf four or five months old, and in a few minutes nothing is left of it but the skeleton. Waiting till the mother is at some distance, they swoop down and strike the animal to the ground, immediately ripping out its tongue that it may give no signal of alarm.
Our homeward descent was continued without any other adventure save losing one of our companions in the woods. Our whistles were used continually without success for an hour, and then, by sheer accident, he again crossed our path, having been riding in every direction, misled by the notes of a bird, strongly resembling the sound of a whistle.
We made a short halt, for maté and a cigarillo, at a rancho, the people in which, whilst expressing their delight at our successful hunt, wished to know whether we were going to use the Condors as a remedio, having no idea of the value or object of Natural History pursuits—in fact, considering a naturalist as a species of quack doctor who collects animals in order to procure wonderful remedios. In these Sierras a remedio is the usual form for begging. The other eveuing an old woman at Cosquin begged for a piece of candle as a remedio—certainly a perfect cure for darkness.
At sundown we arrived safely at our journey's end, a little fatigued, but thoroughly well pleased with this our first Condorhunt on the Sierras of Cordoba.
