Page images
PDF
EPUB

tribes, who swallow the poison, and obtain protection by internal inoculation. It would be interesting to know whether the descendants of the Psylli are still living near Tunis, for the snakes themselves have survived in numbers. The tribe had clearly existed from the days of Moses and the Pharaoh of the Exodus till those of Cæsar, and was well known to Pliny, Celsus, and Lucan.

The great "king cobra," in the cage next to the puff-adder, lives entirely on srakes caught for it in England. The greater number come from Hampshire, where they are captured by the last of the English snake-charmers, "Brusher" Mills, the adder-catcher of the New Forest, for whom the advent of the king cobra at the Zoo has opened up a profitable market for the disposal of the common snakes, which he catches when adder-hunting.

The boas, pythons, and harmless snakes occupy the whole length of the wall opposite the entrance. Apart from their size, and the interesting fact that one of the boas ate his companion a year ago, there are two points of exceptional interest to be noted in a visit to these snakes the extreme beauty of the coloring of the boas and pythons when they have newly shed their skin, and the method of movement of the great snakes when climbing. Neither admits of adequate description in words; but inquiry should always be made of the keepers whether any specimen has newly shed its skin; and if a boa has a fit of tree-climbing-the pythons are less addicted to this exercise-it is perhaps better worth observing than any sight in the Zoo except the submarine flight of the diving birds.

The snakes are never fed in public; but many of the lizards, large and small, and the manatee in the tank, should be observed when at meals. The keepers are usually willing to show a sensible visitor the cameleons catching a fly, or the big monitor iizard swallowing an egg, and neither is a sight to be missed. Another creature, a large water-turtle known as Temminck's Snapper. is most interesting before its meals. When it

feels hungry it opens its mouth. From the muddy-colored tongue little projections like leeches or mud-worms project and wave about, as an inducement to small fish to swim into its jaws in the hopes of a meal. This natural fish-trap is the most complete equipment for getting an easy living possessed by any animal, and is lazier than even the methods of the Mussulman paradise, where the trees grow with the tops downwards that "true believers" may not have the trouble of climbing them to pick the fruit.

The reptile-house is as well worth a separate visit at our Zoo as is the aquarium at that of Amsterdam. The above notes by no means cover its attractions; the smaller snakes, the iguanas, the heloderm or poisonous lizard, the Surinam toads with egghatching apparatus on their backs, and the collection of tropical frogs of astonishing forms and colors, from the toad of La Plata, whi h looks like a lump of mud covered with duckweed, eats live birds, and is said to poison horses by its bite, to the tiny green tree-frogs, are in many respects as interesting as the poisonous snakes or the giant constrictors.

Close to the reptile-house are the lionhouse, the cattle sheds, the wolves and foxes' cages, and further along the southern boundary the sea-lion and seals, the sea-gulls' pond, and the "piggery," the home of the wild boars, whom the writer never willingly misses seeing and presenting with some food. In visiting the cattle sheds, it is as well to ask Waterman, the keeper of the cattle, what young animals are in the stables, behind the main line of stalls and yards. Recently the interesting experiments in hybridizing wild cattle, which marked the early days of the Zoo, have been renewed, and a curious cross between the bull yak and zebu cow obtained. It was a shaggy black creature. in which the yak features and fur predominated. Young yaks, which sell for 301. apiece, trotting oxen, young buffalos, and other wild cattle may generally be seen in the beautifully clean stalls, piled with clover hay and

strewn with fine sawdust. The purebred Chartley bull was killed by Lord Ferrers's orders, but his descendants, bred from the wild white cattle of Bangor, are always to be seen at close quarters in the inner stable. The bull, which would take a first prize at any show, is not so mild as he looks. Last winter he attacked his keeper when he was in the yard, jumping "all-fours off," and then charging him. Though he nimbly climbed the railings, he was helped over the last foot or so by the bull's broad muzzle. Seen in this way the cattle sheds remind one of some Norfolk stock farm, with wild creatures in place of shorthorns and Jerseys. Waterman is an ideally good stockkeeper, and not only manages all his varied cattle-buffalo, bison, gayals, yaks, and hybrids-with great skill and sympathy, but also has much interesting information as to their tempers, habits, and suitability for domestication. The great loss in this part of the collection is the death of the giant aurochs, the European bison, which has not yet been replaced. He was a primeval giant, far larger than the American bull bison which survived him. Those who desire to see the latter with his "buffalo robe" on must go in the winter. In summer the back and sides are nearly bare of fur, and the mane thin and shabby.

The lion-house is so well arranged for the exhibition of its inmates that there are almost no difficulties in the way of observing them, but on the rare occasions on which any of the Felida have cubs at the Zoo, they are very jealous of visitors and nearly always make the cubs stay in the sleeping den until the Gardens are closed. The old puma who had a family last year used to do this, only bringing the cubs out to play and climb after closing time. If permission can be had to go into the passage behind the cages, the cubs may then be seen through the peephole in the shutter behind, lying at a distance of a few feet. The cubs do not know they are being watched, and behave like kittens in a basket. Those who have time should sit and watch the movements and at

titudes of the lions when out in their summer cages. They constantly assume poses grander than any that sculptors have yet attributed to them. The writer has seen Mr. Gambier Bolton, F.R.S., the celebrated photographer of wild animals, sitting there by the hour, with his camera beside him, to photograph each new and characteristic attitude. To watch Mr. Gambier Bolton is to learn how to see the Zoo from another point of view than that common to ordinary or even scientific visitors. He is concerned, not with the habits, but with the form, appearance, and attitudes of animals. He has studied them in captivity in every Zoo in Europe and America, and after visiting their haunts when wild in India and the Straits Settlements, has now departed for Central Africa, armed with his camera, for a like purpose. In photographing the Zoo lions Mr. Bolton steps lightly on to the iron rail which surrounds the outdoor cages, holds the camera under his right arm, and raises the left hand, at the same time making a slight "chirp," which seems to interest the ears of any one of the Felida, and to make them look animated. Before concluding this brief notice of how a crack photographer sees the Zoo, it is worth mentioning that it is as well to measure the reach of a tiger's claws before putting one's head under the camera-curtain. Mr. Gambier Bolton has one of these, rather a smart plush curtain, lined with silk, with a hole through it. The puncture is neatly inked round on the inner side, and marked "Tiger's claw, San Francisco." The tiger reached out between the bars, and struck his claw through, about two inches from Mr. Bolton's forehead.

Not being a photographer, the writer generally amuses himself by expertments on cats, large and small, with lavender water spilt on cotton wool. Some of the lions and leopards are cer tain to show the greatest delight in the scent. On the last occasion on which the writer tried the experiment, he was accompanied by a venerable prelate of the Church of England, not less accomplished as a naturalist and in the

knowledge of outdoor life than as a scholar and divine. He had some misgivings that when the occupants of the lion-house were particularly wanted to show an interest in the scent, they might refuse to do so. But though it was only half an hour before feeding time, and they had had no food since four o'clock on the previous day, the jaguars, lions, and leopards showed the greatest pleasure in the perfume.

The Society's collection of foxes, wolves, and wild dogs has for some time been below the standard desirable in such a "doggy" country as England. The cages, which are close to the lionhouse, along the southern boundary of the Gardens, are too small to give the animals much room for exercise, and except an occasional litter of young dingos or Esquimaux dogs there are none of those delightful litters of young wolves and foxes which are so attractive to the public at some foreign zoological gardens. At the Hague, for instance, there was in the present spring a litter of eight young wolves, whose mother, rather thin from looking after such a family, was like a living replica of the bronze she-wolf of the Capitol. On the other hand, there are in the cages at the present time the survivors of Lieutenant Peary's Esquimaux dogs, fine black-and-white collielike animals; and the color changes in the Arctic foxes are always worth observing.

The fashion of going to see the lions fed forms no part of the writer's conception of "How to see the Zoo." All the cats look their worst when hunched up or sprawling on their bellies, gnaw ing bones, with their sharp canine teeth -meant for cutting flesh, and not gnawing-constantly in their way. On the other hand, nearly every other animal looks its best when at meals, from the quiet ruminants enjoying their hay to the seal, sea-lions, pelicans, and diving birds. The sea-lion's exhibition of catching fish thrown to him is artificial, but most creditable to his power of eye. The writer has seen Dutch cranes catching nuts, but not with such perfect coolness and skill as that shown by the sea

lion in catching his fish in the air. It would be much more satisfactory if the seals, whose ponds are near that of the sea-lion, could have a glass-faced tank to catch live fish in, like that constructed for the diving birds. Their wonderful, smooth, rapid movements in the water could then be admired and better understood. Recently the writer saw the seal being made an involuntary assistant in scrubbing out its own tank. The water was three parts let out, and the keeper then threw it fish. The seal floundering about in the shallow water served the purposes of a mop, and washed the sides of the tank fairly clean of algae and mud. Just beyond the seal-ponds, on the way to the swine-houses, are the emus' paddocks. After the first excitement of Australian discovery cooled down, emus, kangaroos, black swans, and even the ornithorynchus, became part of the commonplace of natural history. Yet few people know that the reason why "emu trimmings" are almost the softest material in the world is that each of the hair-like feathers is really double, two shafts springing from one root. This can be verified at the Zoo by inducing the bird to let its feathers be separated by hand. Here, too, the first emus bred in England were hatched. Dr. Bennett, a Quaker gentleman, kept some tame emus in Kent, and the hen laid and begun to sit. Then on a Saturday afternoon she deserted, and, as it was contrary to Dr. Bennett's principles to travel on Sunday, he took the eggs to bed with him, and there "incubate" them all Sunday, taking them up from Beckenham to the Zoo on Monday morning. The summer litters of young wild boars, and the tame woodcock and bower birds in the Western Aviary, near the main entrance, are always worth a visit in spring and summer, and the herons' pond and gullery behind th polar bear's cage, though overcrowded are full of nesting herons, gulls, and ibises in May and June. The public is much divided in mind on the subject of the monkeys. The writer, without feeling any strong dislike for the inhabitants of the large central cages, prefers

the rare and finely-furred species in the small cages along the inner wall of the house, the Diana monkeys, blue monkeys, and marmozets. If permission can be had to visit the inner chamber, in which the first gorilla used to be exhibited, numbers of rare and delicate South American monkeys and tropical lemurs are usually to be seen, which are not able to stand the wear and tear of public life in the main room. The oldest and in many respects the most interesting of the Zoo monkeys lives outside the house, in an open cage, exposed to all conditions of weather. This is the Tcheli monkey from the mountains near Pekin. It has been in the gardens for fourteen years, and is as attached to its keepers as a bulldog to its master. Were it at liberty it would be quite as formidable as a dog, for it tries to attack any one who touches the keeper, and, as the bars prevent it from using its teeth, it throws any missile, with great precision, at the visitor's head. In any case a visit to the South Garden should be concluded by seeing the diving birds' exhibition of submarine flight and swimming. when fed in the fish-house at noon or 5 P.M.

The animals kept north of the main road are far less easy of access than those in the original garden in the inner circle of the park. The ground covers a long narrow space running parallel with the road, and is itself cut into two strips by the Regent's Park Canal. On these two narrow ridges are to be found some of the most interesting creatures in the collection; but each series of houses has to be visited without reference to any train of association of ideas connecting their inmates, and after the last in the row is reached it is necessary to return to the startingpoint near the "tunnel," cross the bridge, and make a fresh lateral excursion on the other bank of the canal. If time is an object, it is no bad plan, after seeing the collection in the original garden, to pass through the tunnel, turn to the right, and, after seeing the kangaroos, the lesser cats, and the apes, to cross the bridge and visit the butterfly farm in

the insect-house, and then leave the Gardens by the north gate.

This will leave the parrot-house, elephant-house, giraffes, beavers, hippopotamus, zebras, and moose-yard as untried ground for another day. The kangaroos and wallabys are some of the most domesticated of the wild animals in the collection. They are as tame as cats, and as they breed without difficulty in England, the pretty and strange arrangement by which the young, even when fully developed, covered with fur, and shod with long sharp hoofs, are carried in the abdominal pouch can always be seen. It is pure laziness on the part of the older "joeys," for they can hop about and feed themselves as well as their mothers can.

The ape-house and its vestibule, in which lives the giant ant-eater, is usually crowded and disagreeable, both in odor and temperature, in the afternoon. The new gorilla, which is the favorite of the hour, is usually thoroughly tired of holding "receptions" by that time; and an early morning visit is recommended. The keeper says that the young gorilla promises to be as intelligent as Sally, and its thoughtfulness, attention, and deliberation are certainly very unusual even in an anthropoid ape of such tender years. Two small coal-black apes belonging to Mr. Gambier Bolton should be noticed in this house. They are remarkably friendly and intelligent, and have little of the semi-human appearance which is so disconcerting a feature in the large species.

The small cat-house, next to the apehouse, would, if better constructed, be one of the most popular features in the Gardens. Many of the ocelots and tiger-cats are more decorative even than the leopards, though the snow-leopard is perhaps without a rival. Moreover, they are extremely interesting in view of the probable origin of our domestic cats. The result of modern inquiry shows that the domestic cats of different parts of the Old World are probably intermixed with the wild breeds, of which there are in India, for instance, several varieties, and that there is no

single ancestor of the domestic cat. In the collection at the Zoo, the visitor should look at the "chaus," the common wild cat of India and North Africa, and another smaller cat of very similar appearance, the Felis maniculata, from Suakim. These are probably the ancestors of the ancient Egyptian cats. The European wild-cat and the spotted Indian tigercats should be contrasted with these. For beauty of fur the "golden cat" of Sumatra, and the ocelots, in the same house, are unrivalled, and the "fossa," a cat-like creature from Madagascar. remarkable both for its form and rapid movement. Unfortunately, the house is rather dark-it was the old reptilehouse-and the cages, square boxes with no top light and little space, do not show off the beauty of the inmates. At the Amsterdam Zoological Gardens these small cats are shown in a horseshoe-shaped series of cages facing the light; each cat has a heap of fine Italian shavings, like those sold to ornament grates, to lie on, and the whole effect is excellent.

The ocelots and most of the genets in this house are delighted with the scent of lavender water. The cats are nearly all savage, and the visitor must forego his, or her, inclination to stroke them. A very large and beautiful Norwegian lynx has just been added to the collection of cats. It is kept in the south garden, in the racoons' cages.

The "transpontine" section of the Zoo contains a number of falcons and hawks in cages, the giant tortoises (not more remarkable, except for their size, than the little fellows sold in the streets), and the insect-house, which, though small, is infinitely charming in the spring and early summer, when the tropical moths and rare butterflies are hatching out. From the beginning of May till the middle of June there is a constant succession of broods of the Cecropian silk moths. moon moths, Tussur silk moths, and other large tropical moths with plumage like feathers and flowers mixed and blended. A few hours see the birth of from ten to thirty of these lovely creatures in a

single cage, and as they are by no means ephemeral, their beauties are open to view for several days. Swarms of swallow-tailed butterflies, hornet clearwings, stick insects, and smaller moths also appear during the month of June, and in July the larvæ of the Ailanthus and Prometheus silk moths, more brilliant in color than the perfect insect, are seen feeding in the cases. In winter the greater number of the glass cages are lifeless, as the cocoons or chrysalides are sleeping the winter sleep. These cocoons are themselves beautiful objects; but they can be seen in summer during the hatching season no less well than in winter.

The "Middle Garden," to the left of the tunnel looking north, has some special attractions at the present time. The best hour at which to visit this part of the Gardens is just after 6 P.M. on Saturday. The band in the South Garden has finished its programme with "God save the Queen," which, as the two elephants know well, is the signal to cease work and have supper. Both of the giant beasts walk to the off-saddling ground, where the Indian elephant kneels and collects the last offerings of buns while the saddle is removed. Then the pair walk off to their house in the Middle Garden. Their eyes positively twinkle at the thought of their bath, their supper, and no more work till Monday, and they almost break into a trot as the pleasant sight of their pond, their hay, and the cool stable breaks upon their view. Like the farm horses, the elephants drink a prodigious quantity of water before eating their supper, and make the latter last until well after dark.

C. J. CORNISH.

From Temple Bar.

SELBORNE AND GILBERT WHITE. The Hampshire village of Selborne, five miles from Alton station, has but little altered since Gilbert White lived there. The railway has not carried thither the excursionist or converted

« PreviousContinue »