HAMLYN'S MENAGERIE MAGAZINE. 
11 
evidently thought a delicacy. And .in this case a 
friendly peck was given when the bird, perched on 
a bar of the iron fence, wished the stag to move 
his head a little, and the hint was understood and 
obeyed. 
One large paddock contained a herd of spotted 
Deer or Axis, which bred very freely — too much 
so, in fact; I was always trying to get them re- 
duced, but at last disease did it. In the same 
range were accommodated the fine Banteng Cat- 
tle, and such birds as Emus and Cassowaries; in 
a large paddock with a house for nightshelters 
were a curious happy family of Gazelles, Kan- 
garoos, Rheas, and Giant Tortoises. 
Our reptile house was, of course, very inter- 
esting, and needed, like the rest, no heating; it 
had Pythons, and was strong on poisonous snakes 
— here I first saw the Hamadryad 01 King Cobra, 
and the black and yellow banded Krait, both of 
them cannibal snakes. The terror of the snakes 
put in to feed the Krait was painful to see, and 
was quite opposed to the composure of the tame 
ducks I saw given to a Python and the Crocodiles 
— it was "all up with them" before they knew 
anything was going to happen. There was always 
the danger of wild Crocodiles in the lake, by the 
way, so no waterfowl were kept there till some 
years after I came, when it was netted round, but 
two islands, one about as big as those in Regents 
Park, and one a mere foothold for a clump of 1 pan- 
danus or screw-pine, were of exceeding interest, 
as they harboured a unique colony of wild water- 
fowl. This had begun, just before my time, with 
the pied paddy-bird, or pond-egret, the commonest 
of Indian wading-birds, but these were soon ousted 
by hundreds of night-herons, burly birds which 
were even individually far too much for the poor 
little egrets, but had to yield part of the main 
island to another invading force of the Indian 
cormorant, a little fellow compared with ours, 
not being bigger than a wood-pigeon, and the 
commonest swimmer in India. After these had 
settled matters, the cormorants coming in at night 
and the herons going out then — both being present 
at once when breeding, and filling the trees with 
their nests — down came a small but select party 
of darters or snake-birds, and insisted on settling 
themselves on top of the lot, being prepared with 
powerful arguments in the shape of bayonet-like 
beaks on the end of long snakv necks. These 
extraordinary looking birds did 'not stay all the 
year like the rest, but left after breeding. I could 
never make out why, until I read in the Bombay 
Natural History Society's Journal that these birds 
(unlike their allies, the cormorants) lose all their 
quills at once when moulting, and so have to find 
a suitable retreat for the flightless period. This 
custom of moulting tre quills altogether obtains 
in the American darter also, as could have been 
seen in our Zoo last year. 
At the end of an arm of this lake, and built 
over it, was our house for small water-fowl, the 
finest thing I have ever seen in any zoo. All of 
wire, it was thatched in summer for shade and 
coolness, and had a great creeper growing in- 
side all over the top, with big pale-mauve flowers, 
which, with the green leaves, beautifully set off 
the colours of the birds — blue Porphyrios, painted 
Mandarins, scarlet Ibises, beautiful, though faded 
to salmon-colour (though the cock always showed 
splashes of scarlet in spring), pale-grey and white 
Gulls, and Ducks of many kinds, nearly all of 
which, including the arctic-breeding Pintail, 
stood the heat perfectly, in spite of their thick 
plumage, which, however, was apt to wear off on 
the breast, exposing the down. 
This could be said of several animals inhabit- 
ing cool climates, including the Himalayan and 
Brown Bears, which one would think could not 
bear the terrible heat, with their thick fur. The 
fact is, one cannot usually tell Prom an animal's 
habitat, structure, or habits, whether it will bear 
a change of climate any more than a change of 
food or close confinement; the whole thing is a 
matter for experiment. 
Among the hardiest creatures we had was an 
Armadillo of some sort, which must have been 
there about 20 years when I left; it lived in an 
iron cage mounted on a brick foundation under a 
little roof, and could often be seen sleeping on its 
back. 
A very rare beast was the curious Water 
Civet (Cynogale bennettii) with its broad well- 
whiskered muzzle and short tail. It was the only 
one I ever saw alive, but I can't say I ever saw 
it in the water. Another rarity was the Andaman 
Pig, a curious little black species; there was a 
sow there when I came, and after an expedition 
to the Andamans I brought back two young ones 
one of which at least was a boar, and so they 
bred. The young were striped chocolate and buff 
like most young wild pigs, although the animal 
always looked to me more like a dwarfed tame pig 
run wild than a true wild animal. 
Among the birds, in my time were especially 
to be noted several splendid Hornbills, the Rhin- 
oceros Hornbill and the Javan form of this as well 
as the Indian Concave-casqued, and once, that 
very extraordinary bird the Solid-cassued Horn- 
bill (Rhinoplax vigil); this was a young bird with 
the casque not developed, but with the neck bare 
as in the adult, and possessing a weird and pene- 
trating smell. 
We had also the strange Pink-headed Duck 
(Rhodonessa caryo-phyllacea), a splendid and very- 
vicious Argus Pheasant, a Cariama which, though 
matchless, laid an egg, a fair assortment of Par- 
rots, mostly kept in my time in cages (though this 
has, I believe, been improved on since), Himalayan 
