“His father shot the bird that was carrying him off, with one of the poison arrow tubes,” rejoined the professor, “both the bird and the infant fell to the earth, and Matco says that is the reason his leg is so twisted and that he walks with a limp.”
The boys found this very interesting. It explained, too, something that they had noticed before, and that was that old Matco walked with a decided limp.
“Tell us something more about the condor, professor,” suggested Nat.
“As I think I said,” rejoined the professor, “it is one of the vulture family, and is found from the Isthmus of Panama clear down to the Straits of Magellan. They usually live in the mountains, but sometimes they come down to the seashore to pick the flesh of dead whales. In fact, they have a preference for dead or decaying flesh.”
“Just like turkey buzzards,” said Joe.
“They are a first cousin of that bird,” said the professor. “A friend of mine, who had been a great traveler in South America, told me once that the Indians will catch them for two dollars each, and that sometimes they do quite a lively trade.”
“I shouldn’t much care to have one for a pet,” spoke Joe; “but how do they manage to get hold of such immense birds?”
“By a very simple and ingenious method. They build a pen around the carcass of the first dead steer they can find on some cattle estancia, and then await the arrival of the condors to feast on the flesh.
“The condor, when he is gorged, cannot rise without taking a run——”
“Just like an aeroplane in that, too,” commented Nat.