Nov. 14, 1889.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



323 



OUT-OF-DOOR PAPERS. 



IV.— A QUESTION OF TASTE. 



FOR niany months in the year the two mountain ash 

 or "roundwood" trees under my windows are a fa- 

 vorite place of resort for birds of all kinds: but of the 

 many interesting observations which these frees have 

 offered me, the most interesting relates to a question of 

 taste, raised by the birds. A fool may ask questions, they 

 say, but it takes a wise man to answer them; and the 

 birds, though no fools, have not usurped the wise man's 

 province, so that at best the question must wait for its 

 answer. 



In brief , there is a difference between these trees. They 

 are both large for their kind, of equal age, similarly sit- 

 uated, to all appearances precisely alike, except that the 

 one on the right sheds its leaves before the other, and is 

 an inch or two less in girth. There seems nothing to 

 choose between them, yet the birds know a difference, 

 which I, not having a nice taste in roundwood berries, 

 could never detect. That connoisseur of small fruits, the 

 robin, will sit all day on one of them and eat roundwood 

 berries till you wonder how his tonnage is rated, with 

 what 



"Particular addition from the bill 

 Which writes them all alike." 



But not a berry of the other tree will he touch. As the 

 robin's taste always agrees exactly with mine in the 

 selection of strawberries, cherries and currants, he in- 

 variably seeming the ones I intended to have — (It is a 

 mistake to say that the early bird gets the worm; he 

 leaves that for you)— I would unhesitatingly assert that 

 if there is any thing good in the line of roundwood berries 

 he knows it and has his share of it. In the winter the 

 pine grosbeaks visit these trees in large flocks, and 

 although they eat the seed only, rejecting the pulp, they 

 confirm the robins' decision that the tree on the left is a 

 superior article. In the spring, if the yield has been 

 abundant and the grosbeaks few, the purple finches 

 finish the work of stripping the trees, and by these also 

 the tree on the left is preferred; while there is a single 

 berry on it the birds flock to it to the neglect of the other, 

 which may be hanging with almost unbroken clusters; 

 yet when there is nothing more left on the favorite tree, 

 they resort to the other and find food, if not epicurean 

 satisfaction, in its full bunches of berries. For twenty 

 years the same preference has been remarked, and the 

 same agreement among all species of birds. De giistilms 

 non disputandmn, There's no accounting for tastes, says 

 the proverb, with a strong hint as to tne reason; but in 

 Such a case as this, where the agreement cannot be 

 doubted, while we may throw a sop to the proverb by 

 allowing that a taste for roundwood berries is unaccount- 

 able on any grounds known to us, we must admit that 

 this unanimity of opinion among the birds argues the 

 existence of substantial grounds. 



Granting this, what is the causeV Whence has the fruit 

 its flavor? 



The birds asked the question and they must help an- 

 swer it. "Let the sapsucker be called as the principal 

 witness." 



"May it please the Court, the sapsucker has a doubtful 

 reputation. He is accused of irregular proceedings, and 

 he bears a bad name. It is our point to show that he 

 deserves his name. Until that is done his testimony will 

 be worth little." 



At the present day there is so little doubt of the yellow- 

 bellied woodpecker's object in tapping trees, that even 

 the naturalists have agreed, for the time being, to call 

 him "the sapsucker." There are still some of those good 

 people who, out of pure benevolence, would tell white 

 lies to screen the devil, who aver that the yellow-bellied 

 woodpecker eats nothing but worms; but if he should get 

 a little sap now and then we ought not to grudge him 

 that little. This is not the question whether the sap- 

 sucker is injurious or not. For my part, if he is content 

 to draw a few ounces of sap from my trees while I drain 

 them of gallons, he is welcome to all he gets, and to more, 

 too. We do not wish to rob him of his good name as an 

 eater of grubs and insects; we forbear to accuse him of 

 any evil intent in tapping our trees; we wish to learn 

 simply this— whether he gets anything besides worms (and 

 bark, perhaps) out of those little holes which he places 

 with such regularity around the branches of our fruit 

 trees. Appearances are against him. For a bud that is 

 ostensibly vermivorous, the sapsucker looks for his worms 

 in such unsuitable places that he lays himself open to the 

 same suspicion which attached to Sam Weller on that 

 occasion in the court room, when the judge bade him re- 

 port if he saw his father, and he, gazing steadfastly at 

 the skylight, was able to answer in the negative with a 

 good conscience. I myself have watched the sapsucker 

 frequently at his work. He comes with a headlong 

 flight, alights with a sudden flap of his wings, as if he 

 had been brought up unexpectedly by the tree when he 

 thought he was steering past it; looks quickly around, 

 like a person who has fallen on the ice, to see whether 

 any one saw his misliap, and soon addresses himself to 

 his work. First he taps the tree, sinking three or four 

 rows of holes on the same or on different branches, and 

 then he tends out on them, watching as lazily as a Mexi- 

 can to see the sap flow into the holes, drinking out of 

 each as it overflows, and sits thus half a day at a time, 

 without moving three feet, enjoying the double satisfac- 

 tion of anticipation and participation. If this is not proof 

 enough, we have Mr. Maurice Thompson's statement that 

 the sapsucker has been seen in the act of drinking sap 

 from the farmers' sugar troughs. 



It is not an assumption to claim that he loves sap "for 

 sap's sake." Does he show any decided taste in sap, as 

 the robin does in cherries, as the red headed woodpecker 

 does in pears? 



We know that the sapsucker prefers some species of 

 trees to others, and some individual trees to others of the 

 same species; and from the character of his holes we can 

 judge very nearly whether he was after grubs or sap. If 

 grubs were his principal object, of course he would not 

 care what kind of sap the trees yielded; but if sap was 

 what he wanted, may we not infer that his choice of 

 trees would depend more or less on the taste of the sap? 



Just here an obstacle confronts us. Tastes differ. In 

 this region the sapsucker works chiefly on fruit trees, 

 birches, swamp-maple shoots and young softwood trees — 



hemlock, firs and spruces— these, perhaps, for their soft 

 inner bark. We favor the rock maple, which he seems 

 not to affect. If we are judges of sweet sap only and 

 he of other kinds, how can we reach an agreement? We 

 know that there is a difference in the sap of the maple 

 trees; some is better flavored, some renders a greater pro- 

 portion of sugar; but where is the judge of apple sap? 

 Then again, our observations are insufficient. While it 

 is well known that in an orchard some trees are much 

 frequented by sapsuckers and others are left almost un- 

 scarred by them, I have never seen it anywhere stated 

 that the sapsucker preferred either sour or sweet apple 

 trees, or that they selected those which bear well-flavored 

 fruit and rejected the crabbed; that is, that there is any 

 sensible connection between the taste of the sap and the 

 taste of the fruit. 



It is still a question of taste, but how complicated. 

 From the sapsucker's preference we infer a difference in 

 flavor as the cause; but few of us know experimentally 

 whether there is such a difference; most of us would be 

 at a loss to detect it if we made the trial; we are unable 

 to prove that it is the taste and not some other quality of 

 sap which attracts him; lastly, we are met with the gen 

 eral question whether the taste of the sap is any index of 

 the quality of the fruit or not. 



Let us interview the mountain ash trees again and 

 learn what they have to say about the sapsucker. 



There can be no doubt that he has been here. One tree 

 is tattooed like the wold man from Borneo, from one end 

 to the other, with little round holes set in horizontal 

 lines, extending partly or wholly around the trunk and 

 the branches. This is unmistakably "His Mark." Ten 

 years will not suffice to outgrow this writing; twenty 

 years is scarcely too long to do it in the mountain ash 

 bark. Here stands the punctured record of many indi- 

 viduals and many years. Let us read it. One tree, we 

 said, was covered with marks; the other is but little 

 scarred. Twenty to one, at the lowest estimate, in favor 

 of the tree on the left. You see the sapsuckers agree 

 with the robins and other birds. 



Here at last we get a little light on our questions. The 

 sapsucker certainly does have a taste in sap. He has 

 tried both trees; he chooses one. That he did not do it 

 for anything but sap, or a little bark, repeated observa- 

 tions within 20ft. have demonstrated. We accepted 

 without hesitation the robin's verdict on the berries of 

 these trees. We know by experiment that his palate has 

 the same gust as ours in all the articles of diet which we 

 enjoy in common ; and here we believed that our judg- 

 ment would agree with his decision. Shall we refuse to 

 believe what the sapsucker tells us, that there is a differ- 

 ence in sap, and that he prefers one tree to the other 

 solely on that account ? Preference is a more limited term 

 than judgment. We prefer maple sap to the neglect of 

 all other kinds; but in giving our deliberate judgment on 

 the respective products of these two roundwood trees, 

 can there be much doubt that we should corroborate the 

 decision of the sapsuckers and the robins ? 



One more query was raised, which we cannot under- 

 take to answer, whether the taste of the sap sensibly con- 

 ditions the taste of the fruit. The case of these mountain 

 ash trees is remarkable enough to draw out the question, 

 and their conditions are so exactly alike as far as can be 

 determined, that it seems as if by the method of exclu- 

 sion the taste of the sap would be the only element left 

 to account for the flavor of the fruit— as if one must be 

 the cause of the other. But we cannot be too careful in 

 determining causes. Extended experiment only can 

 settle such a question, though a bird might raise it" 



The roundwood trees have but one thing more to add, 

 and this has been said before often enough, that the 

 prickings of the sapsuckers do not appear to be injurious. 

 You may see for yourself that the trees he works on are 

 apt to be the healthiest. As well say they are so because 

 of as in spite of his interference; the professor would tell 

 you that either way it is a post hoc ergo propter hoc, which 

 is only another warning to be careful about assigning 

 causes. Fannie Pear son Hardy. 



CAPTIVE GIRAFFES. 



EARLY in the present month there was born at the 

 Zoological Gardens of Cincinnati, Ohio, a young 

 giraffe, said to have been the first ever bred in this 

 country. At birth it stood about oft. high, and did not 

 differ markedly in color front its parents. The mother 

 would not permit it to nurse, and efforts were made to 

 rear it on the bottle. It did not do well, however, and 

 died five days after its birth. The parents of this young 

 giraffe were obtained for the Cincinnati Gardens by Mr. 

 Frank J. Thompson, whose appended notes on captive 

 giraffes will be read with interest. 



The recent notice of the birth and death of a young 

 giraffe in the Zoological Garden at Cincinnati, serves to 

 recall some of my experiences, not only with the parents 

 of the above-mentioned young one, but with other speci- 

 mens which have fallen under my notice. I had not yet 

 entered my teens, when, on returning from school one 

 afternoon, I found the agent of a wandering show en- 

 gaged in tacking up the bills for his exhibition on the 

 front of the tavern situated just opposite my father's 

 house. Among them were two which immediately at- 

 tracted my attention. On one of them was delineated 

 an enormous wagon, drawn by an indefinite number of 

 horses, from the top of which projected the neck and 

 head of a giraffe, and the other represented a pair of the 

 same animals feeding on the topmost fronds of a mighty 

 palm tree. I am sure that from that memorable afternoon 

 until the day on which I enjoyed the felicity of seeing 

 my first giraffe, my school duties did not receive the at- 

 tention that my teacher expected. My attention was 

 principally directed to my library, which consisted solely 

 of an illustrated popular 8vo. edition of Buffon, and 

 the chapter devoted to the giraffe was committed to 

 memory. 



On the morning of the expected arrival of the show I 

 started for school, but varied my usual route by finding 

 my way out for some miles on the road by which the 

 concern was expected, and when that wonderful wagon 

 arrived I accompanied it into the village, and did not 

 lose sight of it until it was driven into the tents. When 

 the doors were opened I was one of the first to enter, and 

 soon found my w r ay to a fine female giraffe, nibbling hay 

 from a basket which had been suspended some distance 

 up the center pole. When the lecturer came around and 

 talked so glibly about the animal, how I envied him, and 

 wondered if I should ever know one tithe of what he did 



about natural history. There was another animal hal- 

 tered to the foot of the pole, about which the lecturer 

 said nothing, but contented himself by giving it a savage 

 cut with a whip when it attempted to prod him with its 

 long, sharp horns. Little did I imagine that the time 

 would come when I would see both animals in their na- 

 tive state, and that the one treated so brutally was the 

 gemsbok {Oryx capensis), the first and only living one 

 that has ever been exhibited in the United States, and I 

 don't think that there has ever been a specimen in the 

 Zoological Gardens, London. 



The above happened in about '36 or '37, and in '51 1 be- 

 came acquainted with Gen. Rufus Welch, who then 

 owned the circus performing at the corner of Chestnut 

 and Ninth streets, Philadelphia, where the Continental 

 Hotel now stands. From him I learned that he was the 

 party who had brought the giraffe to this country from 

 South Africa. He had sailed from Boston, and on his 

 arrival at Cape Town had fitted out an expedition and 

 traveled with it into what is now known as Namaqua 

 Land, where he captured two giraffes, a young hippopot- 

 amus, a gemsbok, and several other antelopes. He suc- 

 ceeded in landing both of the giraffes and the gemsbok 

 alive in this country, the young hippo having been 

 killed by the upsetting of the wagon in which it was 

 transported while descending the mountains, a short 

 distance back of Cape Town. Gen. Welch was gifted 

 with wonderful descriptive powers, and in '66, while as- 

 cending Mitchell's Pass from the Worcester Valley, on 

 my way to Ceres, on the High Karroo, I easily recognized 

 the place where the accident occurred, and verified my 

 recognition by the recollections of several of the older in- 

 habitants of Ceres. But for this unlucky affair the United 

 States would have had a living hippo long before the 

 famous one which was presented to the Zoological So- 

 ciety, London, by the Khedive of Egypt in 1850. At any 

 rate, the first giraffe arrived in this country about the 

 same time that the first four from Kordofan arrived in 

 London, and was the only specimen ever on exhibition 

 which came from south of the equator. The London 

 ones were captured by M. Thibaut in '34 and '35, and 

 brought to Malta in November, '35, where they remained 

 until the following spring, when they were safely re- 

 shipped to the Gardens of the Zoological Society. From 

 that date until 1867, no females were purchased, and 

 seventeen young ones were bred. From '67 to '79 seven 

 were purchased and none bred. Other gardens in Europe 

 have bred them; for instance, at Antwerp and Hamburg, 

 and if I am not mistaken, one has been reared in Ham- 

 burg within a few years. 



About '60 a party by the name of Cazanova worked his 

 way in from Suakitn, a port on the Red Sea, to Cassala, 

 Nubia, where he made his headquarters, collecting not 

 only numbers of giraffes, but hippos, rhinoceroses, ele- 

 phants, etc., which he brought to Europe via Alexandria 

 and Trieste, from thence distributing them to the various 

 gardens tlrroughout the continent. Other parties soon 

 followed in his tracks, which not only greatly reduced 

 the prices but over-stocked the market, and the surplus- 

 age found its way into this country, where high prices 

 were realized on the first arrivals, particularly to show- 

 men, who were not long in finding out that giraffes were 

 not only costly, but also very risky stock for hauling 

 about the country. Consequently the trade began to lan- 

 guish, and then suddenly experienced a sudden complete 

 stop on account of the Mahdist troubles preventing col- 

 lectors from going into Nubia. In August, 1878, I was 

 sent by the Zoological Society of Cincinnati, to New 

 York, where I found four giraffes in the hands of a 

 dealer, who was very anxious to get rid of a portion or 

 all of them, as he did not fancy the attempt of carrying 

 them through the winter. I immediately telegraphed my 

 Board of Directors that I thought a pair could be bought 

 at a low figure, and received an answer, "Exercise 

 your own discretion." A bargain was soon made by 

 which I purchased a pair for $1,500, and immediate 

 arrangements were made for shipment. A.s they were 

 too large to box, the forward half of an express car was 

 hired, after finding by measurement that the door was 

 just six inches higher than the male's withers. A large 

 low truck was prepared by building up high temporary 

 sides, the animals led up into it and I took my seat along- 

 side the driver, holding the halter-stems with some mis- 

 givings as to the success of my undertaking. The motion 

 of the truck did not seem to frighten them, but I soon 

 found out that the male had a will of his own, and if al- 

 lowed to have his own way, preferred walking to riding. 

 A store of sliced apples carried in my coat pockets served 

 to keep his attention attracted until the ferry was crossed 

 and the railway station was reached, when the truck was 

 backed up the platform and they were led across into the 

 car and securely fastened. When the switching engine 

 backed down preparatory to hooking on and placing the 

 car in the train on the main track, I felt a twinge and 

 rode out on it for fear of an accident, but was much re- 

 lieved to find that my charges took everything quietly, 

 although they were forced to stand with their heads pro- 

 jected on a line with their bodies on account of the low 

 roof of the car. Feeling no fear of harm, I bedded them 

 down for the night and adjourned to the smoking car to 

 blow a cloud of peace. 



The next morning at Elmira, on going into the car, I 

 found the male showing signs of temper ; but on giving 

 him his breakfast he became quiet, and I passed out, 

 fastened the door and was standing on the platform some 

 little distance away, when there was a crash of glass and 

 the male's head was thrust through the end door of the 

 car. Springing on to the front platform of the car, I 

 pressed him back and yelled for help, which soon arrived 

 in the shape of the conductor, who hurried off and brought 

 a carpenter with some boards, which were passed up 

 between my back and the broken sash, firmly nailed in 

 place, and the delayed train started with the accompani- 

 ment of sundry growls from the disgruntled passengers. 

 Fortunately the force of the blow had driven ail the glass 

 in the sash outward, and I had no further trouble witli 

 my passengers on the trip. On arrival in Cincinnati the 

 car was taken back up the track some two miles, where 

 the animals were unloaded at a cattle shute and then led 

 through the leafy avenues of Clifton, that beautiful 

 suburb of Cincinnati, until the Zoological Garden was 

 reached. For some time the male behaved decently, but 

 after a while he began swinging his head and battering 

 the female, when a partition was built between them to 

 stop his brutality. Thus they have remained in perfect 

 health and condition for over eleven years before breed- 

 ing. Frank J. Thompson. 



