?o6 THE CONDOR VoL. IX could see many birds flying, but as a heavy wind had roughened the water con- siderably I decided to let that go until the next trip, and after packing a set or two of each variety I had found, I wound my way homeward. Early on the morning of July 4, I was on the spot firmly resolved to reach that second island. I found the island no nearer. than before but the water was as smooth as glass and, arming myself with a ten-pound wooden pickle bucket to bring back the spoils, I started out. After a half-hour's swimming I reached the goal and found it well worth the trouble. Altho I found no rarities here, the scene could not fail to interest any lover of ornithology. This island was smaller than the other, containing only about two acres. The beach was occupied by a colony of Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarenss), most of their shallow nests con- taining two or three young birds. I secured a few sets, however, which I was able to save. In one corner of the island was a small colony of White Pelicans, the nests containing two eggs each, mostly fresh. I found one lonely, half-grown nestling and, without exception, it was the ugliest thing I ever saw. A few ducks were breeding here also, but the greater part of the island was taken up by a rookery of Great Blue Herons (Ardea herod/as). There were hun- dreds of their nests flat on the ground among the bushes, built to a height of two or three feet. At this date most of them contained nearly full grown young, and very pugnacious they were, too. They clearly considered me an intruder and their reception of me was not conducive to much familiarity on my part. Having thoroly explored the island and finding nothing further of interest I filled my wooden bucket with donations from the Pelicans and Gulls and made the return trip without trouble, tho my cargo made my progress rather slow. This was my last visit to the lake that year but I expect some time to return and hope to find no diminution of the numbers of this interesting colony. ];os Angeles, Cahfornia. MEASURING A CONDOR By M. FRENCH GILMAN N the spring of 1901, while stationed as Forest Ranger at Warner's Ranch, San Diego County, I assisted in measuring a live California Condor (Gymnog?yps californianus). A cattle man shot it on Volcan Mountain, breaking one wing, and after a fight succeeded in getting it home. Here it was confined in a large roomy coop and its shattered wing carefully dressed and put in a sling. The bird, however, insisted on tearing open the bandages and picking at the wound. The lady of the house had named it Polly, tho it was a fine male, and was trying to. make a pet of it without getting in reach of its powerful beak. For food they oc- casionally gave it a beef liver or a jack rabbit. My friend, Nathan Hargrave of Banning, was with me and we persuaded the owner to turn it loose in the enclosed yard so we could see it in action. A noble bird it appeared when released, except for the one wounded wing. The size of its feet seemed remarkable, tho not as dangerous looking as the talons of an eagle, simply big and honest-looking foundations. The bird strode about the yard and entered the open door of a shed. Here stretched on a bed lay the mail carrier enjoying a Sunday nap. The vulture hopped upon the bed and of course the man woke up. life was startled by this
