“What do you suppose they’ve found?” Frank inquired of the explorer. “They were there when we walked about the island. Isn’t it funny they don’t go down and eat if they’ve found a dead animal?”
“Possibly it’s a wounded creature,” replied Mr. Thorne. “They often follow a sick or injured animal until it dies. Or again there may be a king vulture there. The black rascals won’t dare touch carrion until the king’s gorged himself.”
“King vulture!” exclaimed Tom. “What’s he?”
“It’s a large species of vulture--light colored--sort of creamy white with red and blue head, and nearly as big as a condor. They always go singly and if one of them alights near a carcass, the black vultures keep off until he’s finished. That’s why they’re called king vultures.”
“I’d like to see one,” declared Frank. “Let’s go over and see if he’s there and what they’ve found.”
“Very well,” laughed Mr. Thorne, glad to humor the boys’ curiosity. “Whatever it is, is near the river. Colcord, run over to that point and we’ll have a look at what the buzzards are after.”
As the boat approached the spot, the boys saw that trees and rocks were black with the loathsome birds which rose on flapping wings as the craft touched the shore and the boys and the others sprang on to the rocks.
Whatever had attracted the scavengers was evidently just within the verge of forest and climbing the bank, Rawlins, who was in advance, saw a huge white and black bird flap up from a clump of grass a few yards away.
“There goes the old king!” he exclaimed.
Anxious to catch a glimpse of the great bird, the boys stopped and craned their necks and the diver stepped forward towards the clump of coarse grass.