"Colonel Stebbings, is this where we're to camp tonight?"

I watched the great explorer twirl his moustaches and look out over the horizon before answering.

"I can think of no better place, Johnson. Kindly ask the bearers to erect the tents and busy themselves with the provision of an evening meal."

The bearers did as they were bid.

"We've been searching for three weeks now, and we haven't found a thing," I said to the colonel.

"Have patience, Johnson," he said, "Rome was not built in a day. When her Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria, gave permission for this expedition, it was on the understanding that we would take as long as was necessary to prove my theory."

"But Peru…"

"I am clear in my mind that this territory at the foot of the Andes contains the evidence. We need only find the right spot and we will bring untold glories to the scientific world of England."

We had sailed from London four months previously and our team of thirty men trekked from the port of Callao, where we left the good ship HMS Sovereign tied up awaiting our return. It was now May in the year eighteen ninety-four and the thin air of this benighted country took its toll on all but the colonel, who was indefatigable.

When the camp had been made and the dinner dishes cleared away, I took him his nightly glass of port wine and a dry biscuit. I rang a small handbell which the colonel insisted I ring before he gave me permission to enter his tent. I found him poring over a map.

"Ah, Johnson, thank you. Put them over there, on that chest, would you?"

I did so.

"Cortez drew up this map of the area two hundred years ago. It leaves much to be desired but here…" he pointed to a small, shaded portion, "...is where the evidence lies. This area is uninhabited - indeed it is uninhabitable but was once a tropical swamp."

"Where is it?" I asked.

"About thirty miles north-east of here. There is a pass through the mountains that means we should reach our destination within a couple of days."

"And when shall we start out?"

"At first light."

I told the head bearer, Nolberto, to break camp as soon as dawn broke, around half-past six. He was a fellow of few words, but an honest, upright man, and he nodded curtly.

We skirted the massive mountain range which seemed permanently to be swathed in cloud and mist, although little rain fell on the arid ground over which we tramped. Colonel Stebbings never once relaxed his pace. He strode, swagger-stick in hand, back ramrod-straight, at the head of the expedition, looking neither right nor left. 

We camped on that first night on a great plain upon which the wind blew hard enough to force our bearers to double the guy-stays on the tents to ensure they were not blown away. I could not sleep, so, in the middle of the night, I left my tent to gaze up at the myriad stars twinkling in the oak-black sky. I was surprised to see the colonel standing near his tent, dressed in a smoking-jacket over his nightshirt and wearing a pair of Turkish slippers. He turned to me as he heard me approach.

"Ah, Johnson, unable to sleep?"

"It's the blessed wind, Colonel; it howls and wails like some poor tormented beast. It gets between me and my rest."

"With me, it is my mind that is in turmoil. I am sure we are close to a great discovery. The thought is vivid in my brain. I cannot shake it off and sleep is impossible."

Suddenly, the wind dropped, and all was quiet. Then, from somewhere high in the sky, I heard a shriek that chilled me to the marrow. The colonel shouted out in great excitement:

"Did you hear that, Johnson?"

"Yes sir. I must be dreaming - I've never heard the like of it before. It's turned my blood to jelly."

"It proves what I have believed all along," said the colonel.

"May I ask what that is, sir?"

"I cannot tell you without definite proof. I firmly believe we shall get that proof if we continue to the spot I have highlighted on the map. That will be tomorrow. Come, sleep is required and, as the wind has abated, perhaps we can rest easily now, for we have a heavy day tomorrow and we need to be at our freshest."

I soon dozed off and felt quite lively when we assembled for breakfast. The colonel, who never looked anything other than lively, was impatient to be away. 'Vamos a movernos rápido,' he yelled at Nolberto, whose face remained a mask.

The men and mules were soon assembled, and we made our way along a dried-up riverbed towards the valley that would take us to the promised land. It was a fine sunny morning, but the wind soon sprang up from the lee side of the mountains and it turned chilly. At noon we halted for some sustenance.

"Five miles away, through that gap in the mountains," said the colonel, pointing with his stick. "We should arrive by two 'o' clock."

He was correct. With a mountain that rose to twenty thousand feet on each side of the valley, thankful that we did not have to climb them, we had an easy walk to the place that he had marked on the map.

"We will begin exploring here," he said, "but we can do nothing this afternoon - the men are exhausted, and they need rest. Johnson, you and I will reconnoitre the area. Kindly bring your notebook and pencil and take notes, on my command."

I did as I was told, for it was futile to argue with the colonel, and we set our foot in an easterly direction. Armed with his compass, we were soon a good distance away from the camp. Then I heard again that penetrating, frightening shriek. The sky was a brittle blue and as I looked up into it, I saw something that was so monstrous, so unbelievable, so impossible, that I staggered back and almost fainted.

"What is it, Johnson?" asked the colonel.

"L-L-Look - up there," I gasped.

"Upon my word," he said. "I knew it.  Extraordinary. Take this down, man, before it is away for good."

I grabbed my pencil and opened my notebook.

"Cortez's prehistoric flying creature," he said, "a hundred feet up, circling on the thermal currents. By George, if I'm not mistaken, it's as long as a barquentine, and with a wingspan half as great again. Black as a raven, but no feathers. Wings membranous. A beak as long as a rapier and a horny crest on its head."

The creature idled a little longer, then drifted away up and over the mountains.

I continued to sketch the flying reptile after it flew away, for my poor lexicon of words could not describe it adequately.

We continued to scour the ground to see if there was any evidence that we could take back to England with us, to prove that our sighting of this remarkable creature was no flight of fancy. The colonel disappeared behind a cluster of rocks and I heard him yell:

"Johnson - come here, this minute."

I hurried across to him. His face was flushed in triumph and he was standing by a slight depression in the sand.

"See here, Johnson - the proof we need."

I stood next to him and looked down. There were three eggs lying there. Each was the size of a grapefruit, flecked and mottled with ash-grey spots and splurges.

"Don't touch, Johnson - see how thin the shells are? The eggs may break unless we lift them carefully. We shall be obliged to use cloth slings, eased under the eggs, to lift them."

I returned to camp to fetch Nolberto and together the three of us lifted the delicate eggs into a box that had been filled with sand to protect them.

"Will they hatch?" I asked the Colonel.

"No, Johnson. I believe these eggs have been abandoned by their mother and are, as a consequence, infertile. Mind you, I do not intend to break the shell of one to find out."

*

Colonel Stebbings addressed the committee of the Royal Zoological Society in London as soon as we returned to our home shores.

"Gentlemen," he said. "We have returned from Peru with incontrovertible proof that a giant flying creature, believed long extinct, is alive and well and gracing the skies above the Andes Mountains. Johnson here has a sketch of the animal."

 I passed it to the chairman, who showed it to his colleagues.
 
"This proves nothing," the chairman said, "it could simply be a distorted view of a bird such as a bald eagle. It may be that the heat and lack of oxygen caused you to misrepresent what you saw and instead you drew this...this...thing."

"I can assure you, sir," said the colonel, drawing himself up to his full height, "that our minds were befuddled neither by the heat nor the altitude. Johnson, open the box."

I did so, and the committee crowded around to look at the eggs.

The chairman gave a short, barking laugh.

"Well, Stebbings. Congratulations. The Society has long wanted to see examples of the eggs of the Giant Condor and you have kindly obliged."

Colonel Stebbings let out a noise like steam escaping from a leaking gland, gathered up the box, turned on his heel and left the room, leaving me trailing in his wake.

"Buffoons," he said. "Pismires. They're not fit to call themselves zoologists."

"Never mind, Sir," I said, "I know what we've witnessed."

"Yes," said the Colonel, "we've been fortunate enough to be the second (after Cortez) and last to see the biggest flying creature that ever lived and one which supposedly died out with the rest of the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous period, sixty-four million years ago. We'll have to be satisfied with that, I suppose."