California condor Eben Mcmillan 19 February, 1964 The day broke clear, fair and mild. Little if any smog could be seen in the Santa Clara Valley or any of its neighboring areas. A mild east wind was blowing gently. I packed up and hiked to Sulphur Canyon, via the roadway that goes from Bear Tree Corrals. As I topped out on Soda-Sulphur Ridge I put out two cottontail rabbit carcasses that I had brought and the carcass of a large white housecat that Gregory, my son, had killed at my place about five days ago. The white cat and one cottontail were placed out on the point above where the road crosses over ridge from Soda to Sulphur creeks and in view of the Sulphur Creek campsite and were left at a distance of about ten feet from one another. The remaining cottontail placed about fifty feet to the south of the other rabbit and cat, and about ten feet from the brow of a rise over which I could not see from the Sulphur creek camp. This done I hiked down to Sulphur Creek Campsite and stationed myself out in the center of the flat on which the old oil well site is located. Out of a flock of 23 deer that were grazing on the open south facing hillside one-half mile north of the Percy home were six bucks. All six had good [illegible], with two pair of fine antlers. At one time three of these buck deer, with one of the larger of the group included, sparred with their horns locked together, pushing one another buck and forth. A younger and much smaller buck seemed able to best the big buck. Among this group of deer were a fawn and a yearling that played a sort of follow the leader game. One would dash across a swale on the steep hillside and run swale at full speed out onto a point beyond the [illegible] about-