Free The Maze by Will Hobbs

that by instinct. I’m proud of ’em. Their parents never taught ’em that.”
    Suddenly the eagle flew off. The condors fed for half an hour, then lumbered along the slickrock flapping their wings and made short flights along the edge of the cliff. “Let’s plant the new carcass,” Lon said.
    They placed the new carcass farther to the north, where a pair of junipers served as a natural blind.
    â€œWe can watch awhile,” the biologist said.
    After fifteen minutes a raven showed up. The first thing it did was tear out the calf’s eyes. In an hour’s time there were six ravens. “They’ve already opened it up,” Lon said. “This is good. Ravens find carcass, condors see ravens, condors find food.”
    Rick was tiring of the wait. He didn’t have a fraction of the patience the biologist had.
    Suddenly Lon was pointing. “Look high,” he whispered.
    A condor was soaring high above the rim.
    â€œGotta be M4,” Lon said. He raised his binoculars. “Definitely is. Come on down, M4, come on down!”
    Rick located the bird through the spotting scope. He could see every feather. The condor was holding his position against the wind, broad wings perfectly flat, tail ruddering slightly as it angled its head to look below like a pilot looking out of the cockpit window. “I see what you mean about the magnificent flying machine. That’s a spectacular bird.”
    â€œYes, sir, that he is. Come on down, M4. You gotta be hungry. He hasn’t eaten since I released him.”
    â€œHe’ll die if he doesn’t eat soon?”
    â€œIt’s not that drastic. A condor can go ten or twelve days.”
    â€œHow do you know for sure he hasn’t eaten? There must have been times you weren’t watching.”
    Lon put his finger to his throat. “They got a pouch in their esophagus that we call the crop in the bird biz…. Holds food until they’re ready to digest it, or afterward if they’re feeding their young. The crop pooches out when it’s full.”
    M4 was turning a circle. Rick lost him in the scopeand watched without it. Suddenly there were three more large birds in the air above the rim. “Not eagles, I hope.”
    â€œAll condors. Look, M4’s coming down.”
    Within a few minutes they were watching four condors at once feeding on the calf. “This is a first!” Lon said, beside himself. “And no eagles in sight. Eat your fill, guys. Car-ry-on.”
    â€œI got it. Carry-on, carrion…”
    â€œYou pounce on a pun like a coyote on a field mouse.”
    Afterward Lon wanted him to drive back down the grade to camp. “Get some more practice.”
    This time Rick couldn’t help looking down, and he was terrified. “Easy does it,” Lon kept saying. “You’re concentrating too hard. Enjoy yourself. Everything’s fine. That gear’s so strong you’ll never need to use the brake.”
    Out Rick’s window, it was hundreds and hundreds of feet down. His vision swam, he felt sick. “If you say so.”
    â€œTalk to me.”
    â€œYou’re kidding.”
    â€œI’m serious. You’ll squeeze that steering wheel to death.”
    â€œOkay…. Will the condors ever be able to find dead cows on their own…without them appearing as if by magic?”
    â€œSure they will! Canyonlands National Park is surrounded by cattle country for hundreds and hundreds of miles—almost all of it public land with grazing by permit. The ranchers lose two percent of their cattle every year to natural causes. Cattle even graze the meadows on the mountain ranges you see on the horizon. Those mountains will be within easy reach for these condors.”
    â€œI don’t think I’ll look at the horizon.”
    â€œKeep your eye on the road, such as it is. In addition to cattle, these condors will find deer, elk, bighorn sheep,