Adapted from Jim Conrad's online book A Birding Trip through Mexico, This excerpt from "The Gulf-Coast Beach at Montepio"
in  southern coastal Veracruz state
SEVEN VULTURES AND AN EEL
Right in front of my tent, just this side of the breaking waves, there's a dead eel or eel-like fish.  A Black Vulture comes winging down beach, spots the feast, and lands. The bird tugs at the fish's head causing the dead animal's silvery tail to flip as if it's alive. This obviously surprises the vulture, who jumps straight up like a cartoon character.

Before the bird's nerves can be calmed a second vulture drops from the sky and tries to join in the eating. However, the first vulture seems in no mood for sharing, for it makes a tentative lunge at its visitor, and that's enough to keep the meal to itself. The visitor continues to lounge five feet away looking hungry.

A third Black Vulture arrives, but it also meets resistance, and ends up lolling on the sand with the second bird.

But then a fourth Black Vulture lands, and instantly I see that the first bird loses its confidence. Obviously Number Four is higher ranked, for after half a second of half-hearted pecking, Number One moves away, leaving the eel to its new owner. Now Number One joins Numbers Two and Three standing on the sand.

Then Numbers Five and Six arrive, but Number Four holds its own, and they join One, Two, and Three, watching Four eat.

Five minutes pass and then Number Seven arrives and without hesitation attacks Number Four. Seven and Four must be mortal enemies, for it's not enough for Seven to chase Four from its prize; Seven's attack is so brisk that Four begins hopping down the beach, flapping frantically, struggling to get into the sky, and Seven goes hopping and flapping after him. They manage to lift off at about the same time and in the sky their chase continues, leaving a new squabble among the five vultures left behind.

Now all the birds divide their pecks among their neighbors and the eel. The eel gets covered with sand and almost lost in the confusion. But then one of the two vultures who just left returns, presumably Number Seven, and order is restored when all the other birds give way and resume standing awkwardly on the sand.

Finally all the onlookers give up and fly away, leaving only one onlooker and the eater.  A few pecks are exchanged in what must represent an hierarchical challenge but the challenger doesn't have the mettle to dislodge the eater from its meal, and then it also flies away.

Now there's one vulture and one dead eel, and after a very great deal of commotion at last this one bird eats in peace.