104 ^OnEST ANtD STREAM, tAva.6,m 
supper and breakfast. Even the sight of due and 'fawn 
could not divert us from the matter in hand. These 
trout had never been allured with anything but bait; it 
was an open question whether or no we could educate 
them to the point of leaping for flies. 
The royal-coachman has proved a failure. Queen-of- 
the-water, grizzly-king, professor follow suit, f change 
my cast to March-brown, cowdung and black-gnat, cast 
up and let the flies swirl slowly down along the edge 
of the watercress. Just what followed I did not see, 
but there was a twitch of the hand, a thrill of the right 
arm, the song of the reel, and I was fighting to keep a 
couple of half-pounders out of the entanglement of cress 
and long moss in which they had an irresistible desire to 
hide. So the battle was begun. The March-brown and 
the cowdung had done the work, and all that afternoon 
we fished down the little stream until the canon walls 
narrowed into a chasm, and with a parting laugh Jones' 
Hole Brook leaped by hundred-foot steps down into 
Ladore Canon and was lost in the muddy waters of 
Green River. We did not catch all that we might have 
done, but we caught all that we needed for night and 
morning, some for our good hosts in the valley, and 
we salted a few to help out the inevitable canned beef 
and bacon, the bugbear of the return trip. The largest 
trout that we caught weighed 2%\bs., but half a pound 
was a fair average. 
Our return trip to Provo lay down the Green River 
and San Raphael, across Fish Lake Mountain and into 
Sanpete county. Where there was desert we found cac- 
tus and prairie dogs. The streams of Emery county have 
been washed by cloudbursts until they are absolutely 
devoid of trout, only along the Basin's River did we 
find a few little bro<jks that afforded an hour's sport. 
The conditions will not improve until our laws are en- 
forced. Shoshone. 
Provo, Utah, July 15. 
Monkey Food and Monkey Health. 
The lion and the tiger, and in short most of the beasts 
known to students of natural history, so far as their 
physical condition in captivity is concerned, have come 
under man's intelligent attention; but the animal which 
is more closely akin to him than all the others he knows 
less about. Possibly this kinship may allow for the 
fact that man does not care to prevent, and is con- 
tent to share with his cousin german, the monkey, the 
diseases attendant upon an artificial diet. However this 
may be, an apathetic state of ignorance exists among the 
persons who hold positions of authority in our pub- 
lic zoos and menageries, which condemns the monkeys 
committed to their mercy to lives of untold misery and 
deaths of agony. 
These gentlemen will tell you with complacency that 
apes, chimpanzees and all simians of differing species 
and varying values rarely live for more than a brief 
space of time in captivity. The climate has in each in- 
stance to bear the blame, whereas in reality the climate 
has very little to do with these untimely takings off, 
beyond finishing what man's callousness and ignorance 
have begun. The climate, for instance, will develop 
pneumonia, that being a prevalent disease among mon- 
keys., but the climate has not supplied the animal's sys- 
tem with the purulent poison which comes from a diet of 
bread, milk, peanuts and refuse stuff which the monkey 
in his native state would be too wise to touch. 
I know of no sadder illustration of the condition, the 
ill condition of the monkey, than that which exists right 
here in the New York Central Park zoo. Visitors to 
Central Park, and citizens living in the vicinity of the 
arsenal where the monkeys are kept, make loud and 
constant complaint that the monkeys are a disgusting 
nuisance, because of the odor which comes from their 
house, and makes the air foul. If these sensitive souls 
would berate the governing powers of the Park De- 
partment, and not their helpless victims, the matter 
could soon be rectified. I use New York's zoo as an ex- 
ample, that being looked upon as the finest in the coun- 
try, but I am sorry to say the grievance is general. All 
over the United States, wherever monkeys are kept in 
large numbers, people complain of the stench from their 
cages. Any physician who makes smell an important 
factor in his diagnosis of disease would know that the 
odor with which the monkey house reeks comes 
from catarrh of the animals' bowels. Wherever bread is 
fed to the monkeys this condition must prevail. The 
soda, saleratus, alum and yeast cause fermentation and 
an irritation of the entire mucous membrane. All sorts 
of sanitary measures may be taken, cages may be scrubbed 
and scoured; but so long as the accursed and pestilen- 
tial bread goes into the monkeys' mouths the existing 
evil will prevail. 
A monkey "in health is the cleanest and neatest animal 
in existence. They hate filth, and from my own ob- 
servation I know that the monkeys of all genera are 
naturally healthy, in fact the easiest of all animals to keep 
in health, because of a superb natural vitality. 
Under intelligent conditions all the larger monkeys 
should live on an average from twenty to thirty j r ears, 
and even longer; but let any humane person study the 
death rates of our zoos and menageries, and he will find 
something to think about. If the present system is one 
of economy, it is a mistake, for in the long run it costs 
more to replace the animals than it would have cost to 
keep them alive. Possibly the dealers are aware of 
this fact, and have a keen eye to their own interests when 
they recommend a diet that means death. 
The proper food of the monkey is fish, fruit, eggs and 
vegetables. Bananas are the staff of life to them, and I 
have saved a diphtheritic monkey's life on the juice of 
the pineapple. Tapioca, boiled with sugar and water, is 
cheaper than bread, and far more wholesome and nu- 
truitious. Cassava bread would be a prime factor of health, 
and I wonder that it is not imported in bulk for the use 
of zoos and menageries. Eggs, both raw and hard- 
boiled, are capital; corn is of importance, being fatten- 
ing and cooling, and should be given freely, on the 
cob in summer and dried in winter. Tomatoes are 
remedial, and greatly liked by monkeys; likewise pota- 
toes, onions, carrots and all green vegetables and fruits. 
Rice should never be boiled, as it clogs the bowels. 
The larger monkeys demand that their vitality be sus- 
tained on fish, live if possible, clams, mussels and lob- 
sters. A monkey only drinks water when there is 
fever in his system, for this reason watermelons should 
be given as often as possible. Nature never meant milk 
for monkeys. It turns to casein in the animal's stomach. 
The worms which leap to life from this and lactic acid 
are ravenous. The monkey mopes, becomes emaciated, 
OWEN'S APTERVX. 
has a racking cough and eventually succumbs to the ef- 
fects of the "climate." 
Doubtless the superintendent and the keepers of the 
monkeys know as well as I that the present system of 
feeding is all wrong, but the needed reform cannot come 
from them. It must come from the top, from the gentle- 
men who make up and control the Park Department. 
They are the ones to take the matter in hand, and to 
extend to the monkey the same generous treatment 
which makes Central Park's collection of lions and 
tigers the finest in the country. Fed as I have suggested, 
the much maligned monkey would soon cease to be an 
olfactory offense, and a pretty penny would be saved 
to the treasury. 
I have said that monkeys hate filth; I should have 
added that they love a bath and are champion swim- 
mers. The Javanese monkeys in particular take to the 
water like fishes. They dive, strike out, float on their 
MANTEU.'S APTERVX, 
backs, swim under water with wide open eyes, and put 
man's aquatic exploits to shame. Notwithstanding this, I 
do not think that there is in all the world a zoo which 
provides a swimming place for its monkeys. 
If Mr. William T. Hornaday, under whose humane and 
scientific supervision the animals are to be cared for in 
the new Bronx Park zoo, would see to it that in ad- 
dition to the other comforts of the monkey houses, 
wherein he promises that "the monkeys shall look finer, 
be happier, and live longer than in any other zoological 
garden in the world," a bath should be built, not only 
would the visitors be provided with prodigious sport, but 
the monkeys would be living verifications of his own 
words. Justine Ingersoll. 
July 23. 
An "Unnoted Trait" of the Robin. 
Another peculiar trait of the robin, unnoted except 
by so keen an observer of bird ways as Maurice Thomp- 
son, is that, with all its friendly and confiding relations 
with the human family during the time of nesting and 
rearing its yening, in the fall of the year it becomes a 
wild bird, betaking itself largely to the woods and even 
the secluded parts of the mountains, at this season show- 
ing little disposition to be on familiar terms with man, 
giving a note of alarm and flying high and swiftly when 
surprised at his approach.- — New York Tribune. 
Nonsense. The robin's autumn wildness has been 
familiar to mankind for generations; when Mr. Thomp- 
son noted it he noted only what his grandfather and his 
great-grandfather had noted before him. 
An Amiable Lynx* 
Gardtner, Mont., July 7. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
With this I send four films, pictures of a lynx and dog 
that are great friends. They play for hours every morn- 
ing. They interested me so much that I took my camera 
up there for a few shots. I arrived there after they had 
been playing for an hour. They are the property of Geo. 
Mack, the town barber, shoemaker, taxidermist, hunter 
and picker, but not an "old-timer." The dog is a 
water spaniel about a year old; the cat Tom is about the 
same age and was captured while very j'oung. 
^he first picture taken was of the lynx alone, when it 
was watching a tame kitten in a very friendly way. Soon 
after the dog was told to "shake up Tom!" but Tom did 
most of the shaking. They would roll and tumble 
around, get hold of each other's necks and ears, and 
once in a while hurt a little, by the yelps and growls. 
Tom's favorite hold was the back of Fan's neck. Fan 
played the usual dog fashion, turning her rump to Tom 
when she was getting the worst of it. A strange dog 
came up while they were playing. Tom was on his 
back; he put both arms around the strange dog's neck 
in a very friendly way. The strange dog suddenly dis- 
covered what it was, and backed away very much aston- 
ished. You could not get him anywhere near the lynx 
after that, but the lynx was still friendly. 
George feeds the lynx on woodchucks — rock chucks 
they call them here. Tom will toss one of the largest up 
in the air and play with it as a kitten does with a ball, while 
lying on his back. Tom is quite friendly with most 
every one; but there are d. few he gets very angry at the 
sight of, growling and spitting at them when they come 
near. He recognizes his friends at sight. 
This is the first instance I ever saw of a lynx being 
friendly with any other animal. I have never before 
heard of anything of the kind. 
I had considerable trouble getting the pictures, as 
everyone who saw me at work wanted to "stand 'round." 
This attracted the attention of the cat and even the 
dog played in a half-hearted way, not as they would in the 
cool of the morning or evening, when it was not quite 
light enough for snap shots. 
Later. — The cat escaped the next morning after I 
took the pictures. I was up there witn my camera by 
sunrise. Tom had just gotten away with quite a long 
chain attached to him, and soon the whole town was 
looking after him; and though seen a few times, he soon 
disappeared in the sage brush. He visited town for 
several nights, but lately no one has any trace of him. 
It's feared Tom has gotten his chain fastened in some 
brush or tree and so has met a miserable fate. I'm sorry 
Tom escaped, as I was very much interested in him and 
wished to get all the pictures of his friendly antics with 
the dog possible. E. Hofer, 
[We regret that only one of the photographs sent by 
Mr. Hofer can be reproduced.] 
Some Animal Pets*— I. 
San Francisco, July 14. — In the number of the 
Forest and Stream of July 9 I noticed and was imme- 
diately interested in the "Story of a Coon" by Mr. Stark. 
Having a prevailing weakness for all animal pets, and 
havingindulgedittoagreat extent, I am always interested 
and attracted by such experiences of the contributors of 
Forest and Stream, and especially anything on coons, 
for I profess to be what is called a coon sharp. I have 
had all sorts and kinds of animal pets, but never one that 
gave so much amusement as a coon. 
As with Mr. Stark's coon, my Zip came to me when 
young. He was old enough to drink milk, and soon be- 
came very tame. He would go scampering all over the 
house, and with an insatiate curiosity into everything, 
sniffing and patting it with his p;iws. The moment 1 
sat down to read he would jump up in my lap and go 
through every pocket, taking everything out, including 
my watch, which puzzled him. He would hold it to his 
ear, take it down and try to get into it; finally tiring 
himself out, he would curl up in my lap and go to sleep, 
only to awake and go through the same rigmarole 
again. 
As he grew older he developed a disposition to keep 
unseemly hours. Neighbors complained of the loss of 
chickens. Suspicion fell on Zip, and when interrogated 
he would assume a look of such guileless innocence 
that one would declare he understood perfectly. But 
as Zip could not prove an alibi he was secured at the 
end of a long light chain. The first time it brought 
him up he seemed surprised, but exhibited no irritation 
nor discontent; in fact, he was what Artemus Ward 
would have designated "a cheerful little cuss" under 
all circumstances. He was chained to a post of the 
piazza, and a raisin box was nailed near the top, in which 
he slept. He finally got so fat that the box was too 
tight a fit to enable him to curl up, so he would lie 
flat on his back with his head and feet hanging over, and 
seemed to enjoy it. Nothing interested him more than 
when we would put a raisin in a bottle and give it to 
Jaim to play with. He would poke his nose in the 
mouth of it, then try his paw; then would squint through 
the neck at the raisin, then roll it, then try again; and 
so he would work at it for hours, until getting tired he 
would climb up to his box, take a nap, come down and 
go at it again. I have given it to him after breakfast 
and found him still at it when I came home to dinner 
at 6 o'clock. As a reward for his perseverance I gener- 
ally brought him a few raisins or figs, of which he was 
ver3 r fond. 
He always did just as Mr. Stark tells us his coon did, 
putting everything given him rn the way of food into his 
pan of water, and patting it with his forepaws until he 
had made thick soup of it before eating. 
Zip had an antipathy to big dogs. Little ones he 
would play with. When a big one came on to the piazza 
he would scramble up to his box and not come down 
until the dog left. He had great curiosity when visitors 
came, would go the length of his chain, which allowed 
him to stand on his hindlegs on the door sill and peer in, 
the door being always open in the mild climate of Texas. 
One day a visitor in backing out of the room, not seeing 
Zip, set his foot rather heavily on his paw. Zip re- 
sented by grabbing the gentleman by the seat of his 
