The Habits of the Black Vulture in Nicaragua By A. A. SAUNDERS THE summer and fall of 1905 I spent on a rubber plantation in the Mosquito Coast district of Nicaragua, and had many opportunities to observe nature in general, and birds in particular. One of the commonest birds there is the Black Vulture. The native population, who speak more English than Spanish, call this bird John Crow. A large number of these birds lived on the plantation, and 1 had many excellent opportunities to observe them. How so many of them managed to pick up a living there was a matter of wonder to me. We had cattle on the plan- tation, and occasionally one was butchered. On such days the Vultures gorged themselves on the remains, but between times they must have grown pretty hungry. The lives of these birds, day by day, was a regular routine, influenced only by butchering and by the character of the weather. In the early morning, I found them sitting on the fence-posts or walking about the plantation searching for bits of food. Toward noon, if the weather is fair, they fly to the tops of the tall eboe trees, and from there sally forth to their wonderful soaring flights. Here they remain during the hotter part of the day, circling high in the air. Toward evening they generally come down for another walk about the grounds before dark. Just at the sunset hour they go to bed, and this is a most interesting performance. They fly, one after another, first to the fence-posts, then to the rubber trees, and so on, by stages, till they reach the top of a tall eboe. Here they wait till the whole flock has congregated and then start for another tree. Who gives the signal for this start, or what prompts them to move together, I do not know. They all burst into the air at once with a sudden, noisy flopping. A visitor to the plantation is sure to remark, "Why! what scared those John Crows?" To which the superintendent replies: "Nothing. They do that every evening." After congregating in a second tree, they often take another flight to a third tree, and so on until they find one that suits them ior the night. They seldom sleep in the same tree two nights in succession, though they always commence operations from the same tree. Butchering day, which occurs at irregular intervals, is the important day in the life of the Vulture. As soon as the men go down to the potrero to drive up the cattle, they know what is coming. They gather together on the fence-posts and shed-roofs, watching the movements of the men with an air of expectancy. Sometimes they wait thus for three or four hours before the butchering is finished and the remains thrown out to them. Then there is an instantaneous scramble. Each Vulture takes hold with his beak and begins to pull and hiss and flop until the piece he holds breaks off, when it is swallowed as quickly as possible and a fresh hold taken. At (165)
