ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 
33 
As a result of the great economic and political 
disturbance in Germany, our informant reports 
the dawn of evil days for her zoological gar¬ 
dens. The great drop in the buying power of 
the mark made necessary the increase of gate 
charges from a few pfennig to four or five 
marks. Instead of the hoped-for gain in re¬ 
ceipts, the opposite resulted, since the com¬ 
bination of waning interest and higher prices 
greatly reduced the number of visitors. It thus 
appears that most of the Gardens, with the ex¬ 
ception of that at Berlin, could no longer be 
supported by the Societies which had controlled 
them, and were taken over by the municipal 
governments. 
With the great need of money for the many 
other public activities, we are told that the 
zoological gardens have received but scant at¬ 
tention. Many have been compelled to close, 
others are about to do so and the few that still 
are in the hands of struggling Societies, are 
reported as deeply in debt. 
If these statements represent the true state 
of affairs in zoological Germany, as we have no 
reason to doubt, they disclose a condition that 
will be deplored the world over. Chaos among 
the Gardens of Germany means unstable con¬ 
ditions elsewhere and our own sources of supply 
will not become normal until some adjustment 
is made there. L. S. C. 
REARING A RED HOWLER MONKEY 
Bi/ Gladys M. Ditmars 
Illustrated from photographs by R. L. Ditmars 
F ROM zoological records in both Europe 
and America it appears that the South 
American howling monkeys—two species, 
the red howler and the black howler—are “im¬ 
possible” as captives. They partake sparingly 
of food and pine away after two or three months 
of exhibition. In the series of records of the 
Zoological Society of London covering a lengthy 
term of years, the average duration of life of 
captive howling monkeys is three and a half 
months. Among all the specimens exhibited 
there, the longest record was thirteen months. 
But four or five specimens ever arrived at 
the New York Zoological Park. These speci¬ 
mens lived from two to three months. So far 
as heard from, the story has been the same 
from all zoological institutions, and as it has 
been my proud privilege to have broken zooligi- 
cal records in rearing a howding monkey, and in 
keeping this interesting creature in good health 
for a period of fourteen months,—with the 
howler continuing to thrive,—the following 
summary may be of some interest. 
The howling monkeys are particularly inter¬ 
esting from several points of view. They attain 
a considerable size,—weighing over twenty-five 
pounds,—and attaining a length, including body 
and tail, of nearly five feet. Their make-up 
is weird and grotesque. They are described as 
“savage,” deliberate in motion, and unlike most 
monkeys, give voice to deep, throaty sounds 
that render them unique among all the monkeys 
of South America. This is rendered possible 
by the expansion of the hyoid bone into a large 
“sound box” in the throat, which swells to 
great proportions as the animal roars ,— for that 
is the correct word. Plow the name “howling” 
monkey ever originated is rather a puzzle. 
These animals growl, and in a tone well worthy 
of a big cat animal, and they might well have 
been called growling monkeys. 
On the 9th of December, 1920, Professer and 
Mrs. Alfred E. Emerson arrived in New York 
from the New York Zoological Society’s Tropi¬ 
cal Research Station at Kartabo, British Guiana. 
Mr. Beebe, Director of the Station, had en¬ 
trusted to Mrs. Emerson’s care several speci¬ 
mens shipped north for the Zoological Park’s 
collections. Among these was an infant red 
howler monkey. Its mother had been shot for 
scientific investigation, and as she fell a few 
plaintive sounds were heard. Then this baby 
was discovered clinging to her body. The waif 
was immediately adopted by Mrs. Emerson, and 
it was estimated to be a month old,—or born 
about the 15th of September, 1920. The baby 
took grudgingly to a diet of powdered barley 
and evaporated milk. It required frequent feed¬ 
ing, but Mrs. Emerson delivered her little 
charge at the Zoological Park, in good health, 
and with it gave specific directions for its care. 
During its first day in the Park, my father 
kept the little fellow in his office and fed it four 
times. Pie noted that the baby looked very 
miserable as it sat with drooping shoulders, and 
with big round eyes gazed mournfully from its 
cage. To send this tender little waif to the 
Monkey House, where the keepers were all day 
very busy with a series of about a hundred 
specimens, many of them dangerous, seemed out 
of the question. Plere was a rare and interest¬ 
ing baby, of a notoriously delicate kind, and 
