THE NATIONAL ZOO AT WASHINGTON. 705 



quarry with a peculiar "bizz," the exact meaning <>f which I have 

 failed to discover. 



The daily display here and in many pari- of the park gives the 

 observer a chance to see the geometric perfection of the pattern made 

 by the "eyes" when the peacock's train is raised. I reproduce a dia- 

 gram of this made and published some years ago, when first I discov- 

 ered the mathematics of this miracle in feathers. (Plate III.) 



On crossing- the road from the deer paddock toward the middle and 

 more open part of the park the stranger is likely to come suddenly 

 on a band of antelope. They seem to be grazing along their native 

 upland prairie, not far from timber, and the visitor, if lie have any of 

 the feeling of the hunter-naturalist, is sure to feel the same little thrill 

 that would come if he met with them thus in the wild West. He has 

 ample time to admire and watch their changing and picturesque group- 

 ing before he realizes that between him and them is the slight but 

 necessary wire fence. The effect of this invisible fence is seen on 

 the animals if they have been undisturbed for some hours, as well as 

 on the onlooker; for the sudden appearance of a human being close 

 at hand, with no massive screening barrier between, causes them to 

 behave for a moment much as they did when wild and free, and their 

 startlement is expressed in pose and act exactly as it might have been 

 on their native wilds; but they soon realize that they are safe and no 

 harm is done. The erected mane and rump patch sink and the ani- 

 mals resume their feeding, leaving, nevertheless, on the air a peculiar 

 musky odor that is quite strong when one is on their lee side. 



Some years ago, while riding across the upland prairie of the Yel- 

 lowstone, not very far from where these very antelope had been cap- 

 tured, I noticed certain white specks in the far distance. They showed 

 and disappeared several times, and then began moving southward. 

 Then, in another direction, I discovered other white specks, which 

 also seemed to flash and disappear. A glass showed them to be ante- 

 lope, but it did not wholly explain the flashing or the moving which 

 ultimately united the two bands. I made note of the fact, but found 

 no explanation until the opportunity came to study the antelope in the 

 Washington Zoo. I had been quietly watching the grazing herd on 

 their hillside for some time; in fact. I was sketching, which is quite 

 the best way to watch an animal minutely. I was so quiet that the 

 antelope seemed to have forgotten me, when, contrary to rules, a dog 

 chanced into the park. The wild antelope habit is to raise its head 

 every few moments while grazing, to keep a sharp lookout for danger, 

 and these captives kept up the practice of their race. The first that 

 did so saw the dog. It uttered no sound, but gazed at the wolfish- 

 looking intruder, and all the long white hairs of the rump patch were 

 raised with a jerk that made the patch Hash in the sun like a tin pan. 

 Every one of the grazing antelope saw the Hash, repeated it instantly. 

 sm 1901 45 



