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.