Below this, instead of a firm earth, it was a loose sand and gravel
mixture twenty feet above the river. Here for half a mile the entire
bank was moving, slowly at the top, gathering speed at the bottom.
While close to this I heard a peculiar hissing as of carbonated water
all about me. At first I thought there were mineral springs
underneath, but found the noise was caused by breaking air bubbles
carried under the stream with the sands. All this day such phenomena
continued, sliding sand-banks and tumbling jungles. In these latter
places some cattle had suffered. Their trails ran parallel with the
stream. No doubt they had one or two places where they drank cut down
to the stream Knowing nothing of the cutting underneath, they had been
precipitated into the flood, and now their carcasses were food for
swarms of vultures gathered for an unholy feast.
What powerful, graceful birds these scavengers are, stronger than the
eagle even, tireless and seemingly motionless as they drift along
searching every nook and cranny for their provender! But aside from a
grudgingly given tribute of admiration for their power, one has about
as much respect for them as for the equally graceful rattlesnake, that
other product of nature which flourishes in this desert land.
The bird life along this lower part of the river was wonderful in its
variety. The birds of the desert mingled with those of the fertile
lands. The song-birds vied with those of gorgeous plume.
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