In 1905, the local paper reported that a “belled buzzard” had been sighted at Freeburg, Missouri by many of the local residents. The story of a “belled buzzard” would often crop up in various Ozark newspapers in years gone by. Ozark folklorist, Vance Randolph, believed the yarn of a “belled buzzard” originated with an epidemic of hog cholera. The farmers were convinced the buzzards were spreading the disease. Randolph stated that due to the unwritten law against killing these birds, they trapped one and tied a small sheep bell to it. According to the story, when the buzzard was released, the buzzards all disappeared for a season and the hillfolk believed the bell had driven them away.
Later the “belled buzzard” was heard again and this time many people died from typhoid. Ever since, the “belled buzzard’ has been a bad omen and it was believed it was possessed by an evil spirit despite the fact the “belling” of the buzzard took place over a hundred years ago.
Regardless of the fact that the buzzard or vulture, as they are often referred to, have what we consider disgusting choices of diet, they are a very important part of our ecological system. Black Vultures and Turkey Vultures specialize as carrion eaters, devouring any dead creature they find. When the two species feed side by side, the smaller Black Vulture will push aside the less aggressive Turkey Vulture and obtain the larger chunks of meat.
Reportedly the Black Vulture has no sense of smell and will feast on a dead skunk, scent glands and all. For a long time a debate raged about the olfactory abilities of vultures. Do they locate their dinner by odor or by sight. In 1835 John James Audubon conducted an experiment that convinced him the sable-winged undertakers (his description) were guided by sight alone. He wrote:
“I procured a skin of a deer, entire to the hoofs, and stuffed it carefully with dried grass until filled to its natural size. It was dried and hard as leather and I took it to the middle of a large field, laid it on its back with the legs up and apart, as if the animal was dead and putrefied. I then walked away and within minutes a Vulture, coursing around the field, spied the skin and sailed directly toward it. The bird jumped on it and approached the eyes that were only hardened, painted clay, attacked first one and then the other. Having no success the bird walked to the other extremity of the pretended animal and with great effort tore the stitches apart until much hay and grasses were pulled out. Having found no flesh, it took flight and then suddenly dived, killed a small garter snake and swallowed it in an instant. The bird arose and continued to fly quite low over the stuffed deer-skin, as if loath to abandon such a good looking prey.
I plainly saw that the vulture could not discover, through a sense of smell, that no flesh either fresh or putrefied existed in that deer skin. I also noted the bird, at a glance, could see the snake, scarcely as thick as a man’s finger, hundreds of yards distance. I concluded its ocular powers were much better than its sense of smell.
I then tried a second experiment: I had a large dead hog hauled and put into a ravine about twenty feet deep. I then had the help conceal the hog by binding cane over it and left it for two days. I saw from time to time, many Vultures, in search of food, sail over the ravine but none discovered the carcass. The smell by this time was insufferable. I then took a young pig, slaughtered it and took the blood and spread it around on the grass. I covered the pig with grass but left the blood stains showing. The Vultures saw the fresh blood, alighted and followed the trail to the pig and devoured it.”
When I first read Audubon’s account I was greatly puzzled until I discerned he had done the study on Black Vultures, not the Turkey Vulture we are familiar with here. Both specialize as carrion eaters but our local buzzards, unlike the Black Vulture, have a keen sense of smell that enables them to find their food.
The digestive systems of all scavengers can withstand almost any challenge. Buzzards have been known to devour cholera-killed hogs without ill effect. Powerful enzymes render harmless almost any offal, including food tainted with botulism.
In the world of nature there are many quarrels and cruelties among other birds but the Turkey Vulture sails serenely on its away, molested by none. It attacks none and makes no enemies, feeding on carrion that no other bird desires. Even chickens in the barnyard, always terrified by the sight of a hawk, will show no alarm if a buzzard alights among them.
We take for granted so many important factors that make the earth a thing of beauty and how each creature fits into the scheme of things. The Great Spirit, in infinite wisdom, created a cleanup crew with powerful olfactory glands or keen eyesight. Up close they are anything but pretty but when they take to the skies, it’s a different story. As a child I was fascinated by them. I can still wile away an hour watching as they circle with majestic, unsurpassed grace, rising with the breeze, sailing around for hours like dark winged kites on a March wind. Gazing up at them I can forget the unpleasant task they have been assigned to down here among we mortals. Some afternoon take the time to watch this dizzy sport. Buzzards are gregarious and often a dozen great birds amuse themselves by floating above you. They are often carried beyond your sight in the thin summer clouds but don’t abandon hope for they will suddenly reappear, waltzing in time to divine music.
