the cohort it has been all day
accompanying.

Every now and then between the two "gangs" one is seen coming and going,
like so many mutual messengers passing between; for, although the flocks
are far apart, they can see one another, and each is aware, by instinct
clearer than human ken, what the other is after. It is not the first
time for them to follow two such parties travelling across the Texan
prairie. Nor will it be the first for them to unite in the air as the
two troops come into collision on the earth. Often have these birds,
poised in the blue ether, looked down upon red carnage like that now
impending. Their instincts--let us call them so, for the sake of
keeping peace with the naturalists of the closet--then admonish them
what is likely to ensue. For if not reason, they have at least
recollection; and as their eyes rest upon men with dusky skins, and
others dimly white, they know that between such is a terrible
antagonism, oft accruing to their own interest. Many a time has it
given them a meal. Strange if they should not remember it!

They do. Though tranquilly soaring on high--each bird with outstretched
neck and eye bent, in hungry concupiscence, looks below on the forms
moving or at rest, saying to itself, "Ere long these vermin will furnish
a rich repast." So sure are they of this--the birds of both flocks--
that, although the sun is nigh setting, instead of betaking themselves
to their roosts, as is their wont, they stay, each by its own pet party.
Those accompanying the pursuers still fly about in the air. They can
tell that these do not intend to remain much longer on that spot. For
they have kindled no fires, nor taken other steps that indicate an
encampment for the night.

Different with those that soar over the halting-place of the pursued.
As night approaches they draw in their spread wings and settle down to
roost; some upon trees, others on the ledges of rock, still others on
the summits of the cliffs that overhang the camping place of the
Indians.

The blazing fires, with meat on spits sputtering over them; the arms
abandoned, spears stuck in the ground, with shields suspended; the noise
and revelry around--all proclaim the resolve of the savages to stay
there till morning.

An intention which, despite their apparent stolidity--in contradiction
to the ideas of the closet naturalist and his theory of animal
instinct--the vultures clearly comprehend.

About the behaviour of th