Flight of the Condor [antikvár]

Chapter OneFor the third consecutive morning, Andrew Weston's dreams woke him from a sound sleep. Each time, the vision was the same. He found himself in a lush, pine-covered valley. A single, thin trail cut through the rolling hills. With not another human in sight, he walked down the path with a brisk pace, drawn by an unknown goal. It was just as he passed over a tumbling mountain brook that a booming peal of deep thunder resonated from above. Directing his attention skyward, he searched the crystal-blue heavens for any sign of an advancing storm. When he saw no known source for the thunder, a heavy, ponderous feeling possessed his limbs and, for a second, he swayed back dizzily. It was then that his eyes sharpened their focus, picking out a single, massive creature circling high overhead. It was larger than any bird he had ever viewed before, and he knew in an instant that it was a condor.Soaring effortlessly on the thermals, the powerfully built bird sported a lean body and a glossy, black-feathered wingspan well over eleven feet in length. As in each of the preceding dreams, Andrew continued looking upward, completely mesmerized by the creature's huge size, as the condor swooped down and passed only a few hundred feet overhead. A loud swish of air accompanied this movement, and An-