702 THE NATIONAL ZOO AT WASHINGTON. 



Thus the National Zoo was founded under conditions that illustrate 

 in a curious way the adage that the onlooker sees more than the 

 players. Goethe, the poet, surrounded by zoologists, was the first to 

 point the true way for zoological science; it was for Franklin, the 

 philosopher-printer, to teach his contemporaries how a perfect fire- 

 place might be made; and so also Langley, the physicist, though sur- 

 rounded by zoologists, has been the first to discern the pressing need 

 of the study of American zoology. 



The circumstances which led up to the idea were then unusual, as the 

 plan itself was unique. There have been many menageries in which the 

 animals were confined in box cages, and there have been many game 

 parks where the various animals inclosed have wandered at will, with 

 no barrier but the outward wall of the grounds; but this was to be the 

 first zoological collection in which each kind of animal was to have a 

 park of its own, where it could live as its race should live, among 

 natural surroundings, with as little restraint as was compatible with 

 its safe-keeping. The available acreage was barely enough to allow of 

 the park scheme being extended to our more important native animals, 

 so that the foreigners, particularly those from the tropic regions, are 

 perforce managed as in the better class menageries elsewhere. But 

 the glory of the place is in its individual parks. The fencing used is 

 of the invisible kind, which rarely intrudes itself on the observer, and 

 yet is strong enough to restrain the biggest buffalo. The ample 

 stretches of woods and hills in each inclosure are unmarred by its lines, 

 and the effect is as nearly as possible of seeing animals in the open. 



Here they live, and no doubt enjoy their lives, and the observer has 

 a chance to see them pretty much as they were in their native range. 

 They group themselves naturally among trees and rocks, while the 

 uneven ground induces attitudes of endless variety, and the close 

 imitation of natural conditions causes the animals to resume the 

 habits native to their lives in a wild state, thus affording the zoologist 

 and the artist'an opportunit} r for study never before equaled among 

 captive animals. 



The scheme is of course in its infancy yet. Wonders have been 

 done with small appropriations, but many of its essential divisions have 

 not yet been touched. 



The antelope are provided with a little plain, and the deer have a 

 small woodland where none can harm them or make them afraid. 

 The buffalo has its little rolling prairie land, where it may bring forth 

 its young without fear of the deadly omnipresent rifle, and regardless 

 of its ancient foe, the ever-near gray wolf, that used to hang on the 

 outskirts of the herds to kill the mother at her helpless time, or fail- 

 ing, to sneak around, ready, like an arrow in a bent bow, watching his 

 chance to spring and tear the tender calf. 



Here, indeed, the elk can bugle his far-sounding love-song in the 



