In the next case the bird attacked was the Spur-winged Lapwing, the irreconcilable enemy of the Carancho and its bold and persistent persecutor. The very sight of this Hawk rouses the Lapwings to a frenzy of excitement, and springing aloft they hasten to meet it in mid-air screaming loudly, and continue to harry it until it leaves their ground, after which they return, and, ranged in triplets, perform their triumphal dances, accompanied with loud drumming notes. But if their hated foe alights on the ground, or on some elevation near them, they hover about him, and first one, then another, rushes down with the greatest violence, and gliding near him turns the bend of its wing so that the spur appears almost to graze his head. While one bird is descending, others are rising upwards to renew their charges; and this persecution continues until they drive him away, or become exhausted with their fruitless efforts. The Carancho, however, takes little notice of his tormentors; only when the Plover comes very close, evidently bent on piercing his skull with its sharp weapon, he quickly dodges his head, after which he resumes his indifferent demeanour until the rush of the succeeding bird takes place.
While out riding one day a Carancho flew past me attended by about thirty Lapwings, combined to hunt him from their ground, for it was near the breeding-season, when their jealous irascible temper is most excited. All at once, just as a Lapwing swept close by and then passed on before it, the Hawk quickened its flight in the most wonderful manner and was seen in hot pursuit of its tormentor. The angry hectoring cries of the Lapwings instantly changed to piercing screams of terror, which in a very short time brought a crowd numbering between two and three hundred birds to the rescue. Now, I thought, the hunted bird will escape, for it twisted and turned rapidly about, trying to lose itself amongst its fellows, all hovering in a compact cloud about it and screaming their loudest. But the Carancho was not to be shaken off; he was never more than a yard behind his quarry, and I was near enough to distinguish the piteous screams of the chased Lapwing amidst all the tumult, as of a bird already captive. At the end of about a minute it was seized in the Carancho’s talons, and, still violently screaming, borne away. The cloud of Lapwings followed for some distance, but presently they all returned to the fatal spot where the contest had taken place; and for an hour afterwards they continued soaring about in separate bodies, screaming all the time with an unusual note in their voices as of fear or grief, and holding excited conclaves on the ground, too all appearance as greatly disturbed in their minds as an equal number of highly emotional human beings would be in the event of a similar disaster overtaking them.
It is not often, however, that the Carancho ventures singly to attack adult and vigorous birds, except Tinamous; they prey by preference on the young or ailing, on small lambs and pigs left at a distance by their dams; and they also frequently attack and kill old and weakly sheep. Where anything is wrong with bird or beast they are very quick to detect it, and will follow a sportsman to pick up the wounded birds, intelligently keeping at a safe distance themselves. I once shot a Flamingo in the grey stage of plumage and had some trouble to cross the stream, on the opposite side of which the bird, wounded very slightly, was rapidly stalking away. In three or four minutes I was over and found my Flamingo endeavouring to defend itself against the assaults of a Carancho which had marked it for its own, and was striking it on the neck and breast in the most vigorous and determined way, sometimes from above, at other times alighting on the ground before it and springing up to strike like a game-cock. A spot of blood on the plumage of the wounded bird, which had only one wing slightly damaged, had been sufficient to call down the attack; for to the Carancho a spot of blood, a drooping wing, or any irregularity in the gait, quickly tells its tale.
When several of these birds combine they are very bold. A friend told me that while voyaging on the Paraná river a Black-necked Swan flew past him hotly pursued by three Caranchos; and I also witnessed an attack by four birds on a widely different species. I was standing on the bank of a stream on the pampas watching a great concourse of birds of several kinds on the opposite shore, where the carcass of a horse, from which the hide had been stripped, lay at the edge of the water. One or two hundred Hooded Gulls and about a dozen Chimangos were gathered about the carcass, and close to them a very large flock of Glossy Ibises were wading about in the water, while amongst these, standing motionless in the water, was one solitary White Egret. Presently four Caranchos appeared, two adults and two young birds in brown plumage, and alighted on the ground near the carcass. The young birds advanced at once and began tearing at the flesh; while the two old birds stayed where they had alighted, as if disinclined to feed on half-putrid meat. Presently one of them sprung into the air and made a dash at the birds in the water, and instantly all the birds in the place rose into the air screaming loudly, the two young brown Caranchos only remaining on the ground. For a few moments I was in ignorance of the meaning of all this turmoil, when, suddenly, out of the confused black and white cloud of birds the Egret appeared, mounting vertically upwards with vigorous measured strokes. A moment later and first one, then the other, Carancho also emerged from the cloud, evidently pursuing the Egret, and only then the two brown birds sprung into the air and joined in the chase. For some minutes I watched the four birds toiling upwards with a wild zigzag flight, while the Egret, still rising vertically, seemed to leave them hopelessly far behind. But before long they reached and passed it, and each bird as he did so would turn and rush downwards, striking at the Egret with his claws, and while one descended the others were rising, bird following bird with the greatest regularity. In this way they continued toiling upwards until the Egret appeared a mere white speck in the sky, about which the four hateful black spots were still revolving. I had watched them from the first with the greatest excitement, and now began to fear that they would pass from sight and leave me in ignorance of the result; but at length they began to descend, and then it looked as if the Egret had lost all hope, for it was dropping very rapidly, while the four birds were all close to it striking at it every three or four seconds. The descent for the last half of the distance was exceedingly rapid, and the birds would have come down almost at the very spot they started from, which was about forty yards from where I stood, but the Egret was driven aside, and sloping rapidly down struck the earth at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards from the starting point. Scarcely had it touched the ground before the hungry quartette were tearing it with their beaks. They were all equally hungry no doubt, and perhaps the old birds were even hungrier than their young; and I am quite sure that if the flesh of the dead horse had not been so far advanced towards putrefaction they would not have attempted the conquest of the Egret.
I have so frequently seen a pure white bird singled out for attack in this way, that it has always been a great subject of wonder to me how the two common species of snow-white Herons in South America are able to maintain their existence; for their whiteness exceeds that of other white Waterfowl, while, compared with Swans, Storks, and the Wood-Ibis, they are small and feeble. I am sure that if these four Caranchos had attacked a Glossy Ibis they would have found it an easier conquest; yet they singled out the Egret, purely, I believe, on account of its shining white conspicuous plumage.
This wing-contest was a very splendid spectacle, and I was very glad that I had witnessed it, although it ended badly for the poor Egret; but in another case of a combined attack by Caranchos there was nothing to admire except the intelligence displayed by the birds in combining, and much to cause the mind to revolt against the blindly destructive ferocity exhibited by Nature in the instincts of her creatures. This scene was witnessed by a beloved old Gaucho friend of mine, a born naturalist, who related it to me. It was in summer, and he was riding in a narrow bridle-path on a plain covered with a dense growth of giant thistles, nine or ten feet high, when he noticed some distance ahead several Caranchos hovering over one spot; and at once conjectured that some large animal had fallen there, or that a traveller had been thrown from his horse and was lying injured amongst the thistles. On reaching the spot, he found an open space of ground about forty yards in diameter, surrounded by the dense wall of close-growing thistles, and over this place the birds were flying, while several others were stationed near, apparently waiting for something to happen. The attraction was a large male Rhea squatting on the ground, and sheltering with its extended wings a brood of young birds. My friend was not able to count them, but there were not fewer than twenty-five or thirty young birds, small tender things, only a day or so out of the shell. As soon as he rode into the open space of ground, the old Ostrich sprung up, and with lowered head, clattering beak, and broad wings spread out like sails, rushed at him; his horse was greatly terrified, and tried to plunge into the dense mass of thistles, so that he had the greatest difficulty in keeping his seat. Presently the Ostrich left him, and casting his eyes round he was astonished to see that all the young Ostriches were running about, scattered over the ground, while the Caranchos were pursuing, knocking down, and killing them. Meanwhile the old Ostrich was frantically rushing about trying to save them; but the Caranchos, when driven from one bird they were attacking, would merely rise a few yards and drop on the next one a dozen yards off; and as there were about fifteen Caranchos all engaged in the same way, the slaughter was proceeding at a great rate. My friend, who had been vainly struggling to get the better of his horse, was then forced to leave the place, and did not therefore see the end of the tragedy in which he had acted an involuntary part; but before going he saw that at least half the young birds were dead, and that these were all torn and bleeding on the small of the neck just behind the head, while in some cases the head had been completely wrenched off.
The Gauchos, when snaring Partridges (Tinamous), frequently bribe the Caranchos to assist them. The snarer has a long slender cane with a small noose at the extremity, and when he sights a Partridge he gallops round it in circles until the bird crouches close in the grass; then the circles are narrowed and the pace slackened, while he extends the cane, and lowers it gradually over the bewildered bird until the small noose is dropped over its head and it is caught. Many Partridges are not disposed to sit still to be taken in this open barefaced way; but if the snarer keeps a Carancho hovering about by throwing him an occasional gizzard, the wariest Partridge is so stricken with fear that it will sit still and allow itself to be caught.
In the love-season the male Caranchos are frequently seen fighting; and sometimes, when the battle is carried on at a great height in the air, the combatants are seen clasped together and falling swiftly towards the earth; but in all the contests I have witnessed the birds have not been so blinded with passion as to fall the whole distance before separating. Besides these single combats, in which unpaired or jealous males engage in the love-season, there are at all times occasional dissensions amongst them, the cause of which it would be difficult to determine. Here again, as often in hunting, the birds combine to punish an offender, and in some cases the punishment is death.
Their cry is exceedingly loud and harsh, a short abrupt note, like cruk, repeated twice; after which, if the bird is violently agitated, as when wounded or fighting, it throws its head backwards until the crown rests on the back, and rocks it from side to side, accompanying the action with a prolonged piercing cry of great power. This singular gesture of the Carancho, unique among birds, seems to express very forcibly a raging spirit, or, perhaps, rage mingled with despair.
The nest is built in a variety of situations: on trees, where there are any, but on the treeless pampas, where the Carancho is most at home, it is made on the ground, sometimes among the tall grass, while a very favourite site is a small islet or mound of earth rising well out of the water. When a suitable place has been found, the birds will continue to use the same nest for many consecutive years. It is a very large slovenly structure of sticks, mixed with bones, pieces of skin, dry dung, and any portable object the bird may find to increase the bulk of his dwelling. The eggs are three or four, usually the last number, slightly oval, and varying greatly in colour and markings, some having irregular dark red blotches on a cream-coloured ground, while others are entirely of a deep brownish red, with a few black marks and blotches.