THE OSPREY. 



157 



Notes. 



A Settlement of Wild Geese in Bronx 

 Park, N. Y.— The descent of a flock of Wild 

 Geese into the second most populous city of the 

 World and their indefinite sojourn therein are 

 of sufficient interest to justify permanent re- 

 cord. The data have been embodied in an inter- 

 esting article in The Sun of New York, which is 

 here reprinted.— Editors. 



A flock of nine Wild Geese, floating about on 

 the surface of an artificial pond, undisturbed by 

 the sight of human beings on its shores, is the 

 novel sight to be observed by the visitors to the 

 Zoological Gardens in Bronx Park these days. 

 and it is a sight the like of which, say those 

 versed in the ways of wild birds, could not be 

 found elsewhere in the world. It is a sight 

 which has brought in numbers those who delight 

 in natural history to the edge of the little pond 

 to gaze at the spectacle with unconcealed sur- 

 prise, and their exclamations of astonishment 

 are as nothing to those of sportsmen who have 

 gunned for Wild Geese and know to what extent 

 their skill has been required to get within a hun- 

 dred yards- of these shy birds. Not two weeks 

 ago the Wild Geese, which now swim about the 

 little pond, unmindful of the sounds of human 

 industry with which that part of Bronx Park 

 now resounds, were flying over the frozen fields 

 and marshes of Labrador, starting at the 

 slightest sound and alighting only in places not 

 reached by civilization. That these birds in the 

 course of their annual migration to warmer 

 latitudes south should see fit to drop quietly 

 down in a zoological garden of all places, and 

 there remain with perfect equanimity, is some- 

 thing that has completely mystified those who 

 have made long study of their habits. Many 

 sportsmen have absolutely refused to believe the 

 geese were wild until told of all the circum- 

 stances of their arrival and what has happened 

 since. Six of the geese are now in captivity, 

 which means that they have had their wings 

 clipped, thus cutting them off from all chances 

 of soaring with their fellows. The other three, 

 which include the gander that for some reason 

 was rash enough to lead his flock astray, could 

 not be lured into captivity by the artifices of the 

 keepers and still float about the pond, impatient 

 to proceed on their way south, but unable ap- 

 parently to comprehend the inability of the six 

 others to make the start with them. That they 

 remain is due, the ornithologists say. to the 

 strange affection which the members of a flock 

 hold for each other. 



Bronx Park has always had a flock of geese 

 and they are what are termed Wild Geese, for the 

 reason that although many removes from their 

 ancestors who roamed fancy free, yet they still 

 retain many of the characteristics which distin- 

 guish Wild Geese from the common domestic 

 ones. Heretofore it has been considered almost 

 impossible to obtain any number of wild geese 

 in the first generation. Those seen in Zoos all 

 over the world are sometimes bred from the eggs 

 of robbed nests or from birds captured while 

 wounded, but in most cases they are several 

 generations removed from their wild ancestors. 



Twenty-rive geese of this kind comprised the col- 

 lection" at the Zoological Gardens until Novem- 

 ber 7, when the real wild geese made their ap- 

 pearance. 



Wild Geese pass the winter in the south, and 

 these days flocks of them can often be seen 

 flying in that direction. It has been observed 

 that the birds, whose home, strictly speaking, is 

 in the temperate zone of Canada, go as far south 

 as Florida, but those who live in the Arctics 

 seldom go so far south. It is the opinion that 

 the flock now in Bronx Park came from Lab- 

 rador and was consequently near the end of its 

 journey. Wild Geese fly sometimes as high as 

 half a mile and make on an average of 200 miles 

 a day. The Wild Geese now in the park arrived 

 in the night. One of the keepers found, when 

 he went to feed the twenty-five park geese, that 

 instead of that number there were thirty-four on 

 the pond. When he imparted this information 

 to C. W. Beebe, the curator of birds, the latter 

 didn't know whether to believe it or not. Mr. 

 Beebe has been studying birds and their habits 

 for years. Not only has he been studying wild 

 geese, but he has tried to shoot them with little 

 or no success. Consequently when told that a 

 flock had chosen a zoological garden as a resting 

 place he refused to accept it until he had seen 

 for himself. On the pond, however, he found 

 the newcomers led by a magnificent gander. 



This gander has been the wonder of all who 

 have seen him. From tip to tip his wings mea- 

 sure five and a half feet and on land he stands a 

 giant among the others, overtopping by a good 

 deal the gander that has heretofore been the un- 

 disputed sovereign of the pond. Like the geese 

 that have always been in the park, the new- 

 comers have backs of a greyish brown, with 

 white bellies and throat and cheeks. Their 

 necks are a beautiful glossy black. When first 

 observed in the early morning the Wild Geese led 

 by the gander, which almost resembles a swan, 

 were having very little to do with the other 

 geese which had probably been the cause of 

 their selecting the pond as a resting place when 

 they saw it from above with its population 

 peacefully feeding. When they made this dis- 

 covery it was an hour when no keepers or visit- 

 ors were visible and hence it has been reasoned 

 out that they were moved to alight. Mr. Beebe 

 and the keepers expected that at any moment 

 the visitors would rise and resume their journey, 

 but they were wrong. Instead the gander led 

 his flock hither and thither, occasionally going 

 up to the regular inhabitants of the little pond 

 and then moving away again with an air of 

 superiority. All the time the Wild Geese kept 

 uttering their peculiar cries and now and then 

 flapping their wings and rising a little way from 

 the water. Every time they did this those who 

 watched them expected they were about to dis- 

 appear, but they always returned. 



When it came time for the other geese to be 

 fed, to the surprise of all, the wild geese under 

 the lead of the big gander after waiting for a 

 while and looking carefully over the ground de- 

 cided to share in the meal and then for the first 

 time the two flocks mingled. But this was not 



