S44 
who wanted to make a t'tfw ttlore dollars with his 
pigeon nets. His efYorts might well have been spared, 
for so far as I know the pigeons have never since re- 
visited the Michigan forests. 
Where are they now? Who knows! No explana- 
tion that has ever been given of their disappearance 
has been satisfactory to me. I believe that George 
Kennedy has come as near to the truth as any one who 
has written in your columns. Like Hans Breitmann's 
"barty," they have "gone afay mit de lager bier. Afay 
in de ewigkeit." Kelpie. 
Trenton, Georgia, March 16. 
— — 
The New Babies at the Bronx. 
spring Stirs the Beasts and Birds in the Dens and Groves. 
Wild baby animals are rarely secured by hunters in 
their native haunts, and their life has always been 
somewhat of a mystery, even to men of science; but 
young animals in captivity afford an excellent study of 
characteristics that are interesting — even fascinating. 
One of the greatest ambitions of managers of zoologi- 
cal gardens and park menageries has always been to 
rear young wild animals in captivity, and then exhibit 
them to the public. 
When the first baby elephant was born in this coun- 
try, it proved such a curiosity that the circus which 
owned it made thousands of dollars in exhibiting it to 
the people, and when the Central Park baby hippopot- 
amus first saw the light of day it was an event of pro- 
found satisfaction to the keepers there. 
Since those first baby animals of the forest ap- 
peared conditions have changed greatly, and now it is 
no uncommon thing to find a half dozen or more cubs 
in our parks and zoological gardens. This, at least, is 
the case with the Central Park menagerie, and still 
more so with the New York Zoological Park up in the 
Bronx. While a baby animal in captivity may not now 
excite so much attention as formerly, a collection of 
them never fails to interest those who are at all in 
sympathy with the animals of the woods and fields. 
Young cubs are always different from their parents, and 
when only a few months old they exhibit all the pleas- 
ant characteristics of all babies. The first feeling of 
the spectator is to pet and fondle the little baby creat- 
ures, although some are not so lovable in looks as 
others. 
Animals, like the feathered creatures, vary greatly 
when first born. Some are ugly and some good look- 
ing, but as they grow older these conditions are often- 
times just reversed. There is no prettier sight than a 
young chicken or waddling duckling when it first 
emerges from the shell; but a robin, bobolink or oriole 
-is about the homeliest thing imaginable, with hardly 
a pin feather on its naked bodJ^ Yet within a few 
weeks the small birds are clothed with the finest gar- 
ments, while the ducks and chickens grow uglier and 
more awkward as the days go by. 
The nursery question may be said to be the greatest 
problem of the New York Zoological Park. How to 
bring up the tender little ones which would thrive so 
hardily if they were roaming wild over the desert, the 
prairie or the hills, whose mothers could and would 
care for them if they had been born in their native 
condition, puzzles the wisest heads. Perhaps those 
neglectful mothers are purposely neglectful. Perhaps 
they think that the long life of captivity is not worth 
the living; perhaps they see with a prescience which 
seems beyond their intelligence what is ahead of these 
babies — ^the easy, aimless, tamed existence of the cage 
or corral, and think it kinder to let their offspring die. 
But the keepers are often better mothers to the moth- 
erless little ones than one would expect them to be. 
They grow to understand the natures of their charges. 
Just now it may be truly said that any conscientious 
mother in New York would find it worth her while to 
take a peep into the nursery of the Bronx Zoo. There 
are things there which she could learn. High up on 
her wooden bar sits Madame Susie, the baboon mother, 
with her arms clasped about her baby and the mother 
light shining in her eyes. If you stand before her 
cage long enough you are impressed with the belief 
that any man who denies that his forefathers were 
monkeys would find it difficult to make the same denial 
i-egarding his foremothers. Susie's face is an open 
book. In it is written every emotion from pride to 
tenderness, which a young mother feels, or ought to 
feel. Before she became a mother Susie was never 
considered a particularly clever baboon. She swung all 
day from her perch, and flirted with Rubber, the long- 
armed baboon who is the happy father of Kaiser Wil- 
helm, her baby. But Susie is, so Mr. Hornaday de- 
clares, the best mother the Zoo has ever known. 
Her care of her baby has deHghted the scientists. Like 
those stupid girls who do not shine in public places, 
she has turned out to be a perfect goddess of the 
domestic hearth. She neither pampers Kaiser Wil- 
helm, nor does she neglect him for a moment. When 
I saw her she was sitting on her high perch looking 
like, a Madonna, with Kaiser Wilhelm enfolded in her 
two enormously long arms and tugging at her breast. 
When he got a bit obstreperous, she gave him a dainty 
little box on the ears, and then smoothed his head 
anxiously to make sure she hadn't hurt it. The baby 
squeaked, but he was good after that. 
"It is not often," said Mr. Hornaday, "that we find a 
really good mother like Susie among the animals. The 
average mother either neglects her little ones entirely 
or killi thein with over-attention. That is our greatest 
trouble. Science will do a great deal toward raising 
the young, but a pound of science will not take the 
place of an ounce of mother instinct. We had a red 
fox here last year who gave birth to a fine healthy 
little Ijrood. She was the most over-anxious mother we 
have ever had. She never left her babies for an instant, 
and there were, times when she would get into a ner- 
vous frenzy and would pick up one of the tiny cubs and 
walk about the cage for hours with it hanging from 
FOREST . AND__STRE AM. 
her mouth. At length they died one by one". It was 
impossible to raise them, with so much overdone kind- 
ness." 
There is another type of mother at the Zoo, too, the 
mother who, like some women in society, thinks she 
has quite done her duty when she has brought her 
babies into the world. One of the most strikmg ex- 
amples of this class is a huge Siberian bear, whose 
baby died only a few weeks ago from the effects of 
his mother's heartless neglect. Bears are seldom born 
in captivity, and even when they are the mother gen- 
erally neglects them. For two days this little fellow, 
scarcely larger than a guinea pig, although the mother 
weighs nearly 300 pounds, appeared to be receiving the 
proper care and nourishment. It was cautiously vis- 
ited by Keeper Mulvehill at frequent intervals. Late in 
the afternoon of the second day Keeper Mulvehill dis- 
covered that the mother had wilfully changed her 
.sleeping quarters, and the tiny new-comer had be- 
come thoroughly chilled. It was brought to the rep- 
tile house, warmed and placed in cotton, while several 
keepers were sent scurrying about for a foster mother. 
They returned with a hound, and the little bear was 
immediately placed in her charge. The foster mother 
did all in her power, but exposure had weakened the 
cub, which died early the next morning. 
The five little lion cubs at the Zoo, born oti Dec. 
I. are doing finely. They are about the size of three- 
months-old Newfoundland puppies, and they look 
more like mongrel meat hounds than like the crown 
princes of beasts. They lie huddled in a corner, their 
furry yellow backs touching and their baby eyes twink- 
ling at their mother, as she sits proudly on guard, ap- 
parently sneering at the young women who stand in 
front of her cage and dub her noble offspring "cute" 
and "darling." The mother of the Gracchi could not 
be sterner or more dignified than she. She is a good 
mother, too, and all her babies look strong and healthy. 
They are as playful as kittens, and the average woman 
who watches them feels like stepping into the cage 
and catching one of the little ones up in her arms. 
They have a cage all to themselves now, and they 
frolic around it to the great amusement of spectators 
and their mother. The latter has an adjoining cage, 
which has a private opening into that of her nursery, 
and she is permitted at times to visit them. Their 
mother is so indulgent that she will allow them to 
pull the choicest bits of meat from her, and when fresh 
water is pushed into the cage they deliberately crowd 
her away. Not once has the mother been seen to nip 
or strike her cubs; but occasionally when they get too 
boisterous she will walk away and push them to one 
side and hold them there. 
One of the strangest youngsters in the park is a 
Canada porcupine, which received much the same 
treatment from its mother as did the bear. Keeper 
Greebe is raising this odd baby with a bottle, and 
although affectionate in disposition, it must be handled 
with care. Apparently it is covered with long gray 
hair, but a cactus plant is pleasant to the touch com- 
pared with the little creature. With a gait that might 
be called decidedly bow-legged, Greebe's queer pet 
follows him about like a dog, emitting a series of plain- 
tive squeals if unnoticed. 
There are several young baby alligators at the Zoo. 
They seem uninteresting, for they are sleeping most 
of the time, and are as slothful as the snakes when 
gorged with food. But there are times when they 
wake up and move about to get into mischief. When 
they were first hatched out in an incubator in the 
reptile house, they were so small that they looked like 
little lizards, and not much more formidable, but far 
less active and agile. Their little bodies were covered 
with a hard armor even then; but it has been growing 
thicker and harder ever since. When they first crawled 
out of their eggs they tried to find some dark place to 
hide in, and two of them managed to crawl away and 
hide for several days. In vain the keepers searched for 
them, but after a long hunt they were found snugly 
buried in the ground. The hole must have been there 
beforehand, the little alligators crawled in, and the 
earth falling around them concealed them from view. 
Their hides are nearly the color of dirt, and this helped 
to render the deception more complete. 
A lively little lamb is the young mouffloti, and he 
keeps things humming on the moufflon range; also he 
keeps his mother in a state of excitement and alarm 
because she realizes that such a harum-scarum youth is 
likely to get into all manner of difficulties. He is only 
a few weeks old, but he has been a constant care since 
he was a few days old. The mother's solicitude is most 
inspiring, but she is sensible about it, whereas the 
father is not. He is a most rambunctious moufflon 
and a dangerous sheep. The baby doesn't fear any- 
thing or anybody. He ■ will come to the fence and 
plainly show his delight when he is petted. The 
mother will stand by and throw out her chest in ma- 
ternal pride. But Papa Moufflon comes charging down 
with head lowered, prepared to butt the intruders clear 
out of the park. Of course, the wire fence restrains 
him; also it makes him madder than he was before. He 
drives his family ^way in high dudgeon. 
Next to the mouffions is the house of the aoudad, an- 
other species of mountain sheep, and so shy that they 
blush — sheep-fashion, of course — when any one looks 
at them. The baby aoudad is a month old, amazingly 
large for his age, and most retiring. He shuns all 
human kind. When people are about he stays in the 
little cave cut in the rocks. When the coast is clear 
he gambols gracefully about. That is usually in the 
evenings after visitors have departed and quiet has 
settled down on the park. The father aoudad watches 
them closely. He is a vicious animal, a real fighting 
man, and not a keeper in the Zoo dares come near 
the baby, or even enter the inclosure when he is at 
large. 
Distinguished among the babies at the Zoo just now 
are the twelve little fer-de-lance snakes, which are all 
that are left of the twenty-six born to the huge single 
specimen of that beautiful spotted snake brought to the 
park from Martinique, where thousands of her kind 
were killed in the volcanic eruption. These babies are 
the first of their kind born in captivity. So deadly are 
these snakes that few dare to capture them. The baby 
fer-de-lance is remarkably attractive in appearance, 
[March 28, 190^. 
having a bright golden tail, which it waves in the air irl 
order to attract its victims. He is born in full posses- 
sion of_his fangs, and when twenty-four hours old can 
almost instantly kill a good-sized mouse with one touch 
of his poison fangs. Just now these babies are kept 
in small glass cases in a miniature fairy land of snowy 
gravel and ferns. The baby snakes are not over four 
inches long and so slender that a child's finger ring 
would easily encircle them. 
Way down in a hay-filled barn is a different kind of 
baby, a soft, sweet-eyed baby who will nose up to you 
for a petting. This is the wonderful little horse-tailed 
deer, whose mother and father came from Malaj'. The 
keeper will let you go inside the corral if you like. 
Then the baby will look up at its mother and the 
mother will lift her brown eyes anxiously to yours. If 
you look trustworthy, she will lean over her baby and 
whisper something, and then he will crawl out on his 
graceful hoofs and bring you a wisp of hay. He is a 
hardy baby, and is already being weaned. He is not 
going through the intermediary stages of prepared 
food, but is simply taking a little hay with his dinner. 
As soon as he was born his father, a fine old buck, 
went on a spree of joy and came back in a bad humor. 
He beat his wife so severely that he had to have his 
horns sawed off, and to be put in a separate corral. 
But already he is repentant, and rubs his nose througli 
the opening in the fence in order to give his baby a 
gentle kiss now and then. 
It. appears that chastisement is an important part of 
animal bringing up, as seen at the Zoo. All the ani- 
mals have different ways of chastisement for their 
young, but all the children get it, and some of them 
get it hard. Curator Ditmars tells an incident of the 
wolf dens. 
One day mother wolf was asleep with her head be- 
tween her paws. Three little gray babies were tumb- 
ling over each other in a corner of the cage, as happy 
and playful as kittens. Suddenly an acorn fell from the 
top of the great oak above the cage and struck the tip 
of mamma wolf's nose, waking her with a start of 
sharp pain. Without a minute's hesitation she ran 
over to the puppies in the corner, cuffed each one of 
them, smartly and then went back to her nap, feeling 
that the guilty ones had been punished. 
As the wolves grow older and really get their milk 
white teeth to showing, they are more and more 
robust in their play, biting each other quite savagely, 
but all in fun of course. Sometimes they try this 
strenuous sort of amusement on mamma, and if she 
doesn't feel just right, or has not finished the house- 
work, and thinks she has not time to play, she will 
sometimes turn on them and bite each one till the 
blood flows over their soft skins. According to some 
of the books, it is a lucky thing for the guilty one — 
if the family is in a wild state — if papa has had a meal 
that day, for the sight of blood and his hunger might 
prompt him to make a meal of the offender. 
The most genuine spanking of course is done in the 
monkey house. They originated it probably, and our 
ancestors brought it along with them when they came 
up. The monkey house is the only place where a 
male habitually spanks not only his babies, but his wife. 
According to Mr. Ditmars, there was a tremendous 
sensation among the primates the other afternoon 
when old Greenface, who had been chasing his wife 
for two days, caught her and proceeded to lay her 
screaming across his knee. She is not as big as he is, 
and he could do it easily. He held her tail in his teeth 
while he spanked her vigorously. Suddenly he let go 
and began to scream himself. She had bitten him on 
the calf of his leg, taking out a piece of flesh as large 
as a bean. This thoroughly scared the husband and he 
ran bellowing to the top of the cage. 
The most economical method of chastisement is em- 
ployed by the alligators, who never have to punish their 
little ones but once. They never offend again. The 
thing is done by tfte mother or father opening a pair 
of jaws and swallowing the baby whole. There is never 
another offense. For this reason the Zoo authorities 
keep the young ones in a cage by themselves. 
With the coming of spring, the India black ducks, of 
all the birds in the park, were the first to take up their 
domestic duties. They have laid about a dozen eggs, 
which the keepers are trying to hatch out in an incu- 
bator. Indeed most of the birds are making changes of 
some sort in their personal appearance. An interest- 
ing collection of moulted fur and feathers could be 
picked up on the ground at the bottoms of the cages. 
The age of the feathers and not the outside temperature 
determines when they are to be shed, so the inhabi- 
tants of the artificially heated house of aquatic birds 
are moulting at exactly the same time as those kept 
out of doors for the winter. 
The nesting attempts of the egrets, snakebirds, ducks 
and burrowing owls, and the highly differentiated and 
often intricate notes of many birds are interesting, but 
the moulting and plumage development of some of the 
birds are even more so. 
A pair of those martyrs of millinery, snowy egrets, 
will in a few weeks be in the prime of their breeding 
plumage, and their immaculate while feathers and long 
graceful plumes contrast sharply with their black legs 
and yellow feet. They are living refutations of the ab- 
surdly false statement that their plumes drop off nat- 
urally while in their perfect condition. As a matter 
of fact, they must be cruelly slaughtered before these 
"aigrettes" deface a hat. Their larger cousins, the 
American white egrets, are not so far advanced, but in 
a month they will vie with their smaller relations in 
beauty and length of plumes. 
During the winter the color of the little blue herons 
has caused many people to mistrust the scientific 
knowledge used in labeling the birds; but the purt; 
white, immature plumage of these herons is being re- 
placed rapidly by the slate-blue coloration so char- 
acteristic of the adult bird, several stages in the transi- 
tion being visible at present. A pair of scarlet ibises 
are exhibiting two different phases of plumage. One 
is fast completing the spring moult, and is a glowing 
mass of scarlet, especially in the wings. The other is 
in a half way condition, presenting a curious pied ap- 
pearance, alternating scarlet and light rose. 
The shedding of a deer's antlers always seems to 
cause comment, for the reason perhaps that many 
