714 THE NATIONAL ZOO AT WASHINGTON. 



I have heard it said that a little enmity in the life of a caged animal 

 is better than absolute stag-nation; but of course the enmity must be 

 within limits. The buffalo herd had so far reverted to the native state 

 that the old bull ruled for several years, much as he would have done 

 on the plains. He was what the keeper called "not a bad boss;" that 

 is, he was not malicious in his tyranny. One of the younger bulls 

 made an attempt to resist him once, and had to be punished. The 

 youngster never forgot or forgave this, and a year or so later, feeling 

 himself growing in strength, he decided to risk it again. He advanced 

 toward the leader, "John L.," and shook his head up and down two or 

 three times, in the style recognized among buffalo as a challenge. The 

 big fellow was surprised, no doubt. He gave a warning shake, but the 

 other would not take warning. Both charged. But, to the old bull's 

 amazement, the 3 T oung one did not go down. What he lacked in weight 

 he more than made up in agility. Both went at it again, now desper- 

 ately. After two or three of these terrific shocks the old one realized 

 that he had not now his old-time strength and wind. As they pushed 

 and parried, the young bull managed to get under the other, and with 

 a tremendous heave actually pitched his huge body up into the air and 

 dashed him down the hillside. Three times the old bull was thus thrown 

 before he would yield, and then he sought to save his life by flight. 

 But they were not now on the open plains; the pen was limited, and 

 the victor was of a most ferocious temper. The keepers did what they 

 could, but stout ropes and fences interposed were no better than straws. 

 The old bull's body was at last left on the ground with 63 gashes, and 

 his son reigned in his stead. This is one of the melancholy sides of 

 animal life — the weak to the wall, the aged downed by the young. It 

 has happened millions of times on the plains, but perhaps was never 

 before so exactly rendered for human eyes to see. 



A more peaceful and pastoral side of life is to be seen among the 

 waterfowl ponds. At one time the park waters were a favorite rest- 

 ing place of the gulls and ducks that passed over in the migrating 

 season, a few of the ducks remaining to breed. But the encroachment 

 of the city frightened all away, until the establishment of the park 

 resulted in a new arrangement, whereby gulls, swans, ducks, geese, 

 etc., instead of passing over in spring and fall merely, are induced to 

 stay as permanent residents. Food, protection, and cover are pro- 

 vided for them, that they ma} T live their lives before us; and, in order 

 that they may not forget their part of the supposed bargains, a deft, 

 slight operation is performed on the tip of one wing. It leaves no 

 sign of mutilation, but it effectually induces them to remain perma- 

 nently in the park. 



Among the birds of pre} 7 many old friends of the woods and plains 

 are to be seen, though not taking to their cage lives as do the more 

 cheerful waterfowl. 



The familiar red-tailed buzzard is here, but his eye has ever kept 



