The Greatest Zoological Park in the World

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 17, 27 October 1909, Page 33

The Greatest Zoological Park in the World

By

ELWIN R. SANBORN

Illustrated with Photographs by the Author

IN the autumn of the present year, the Zoological Park of New York celebrated its tenth anniversary. In ten years a wilderness has been transformed —the marshes into handsome lakes, on whose waters a multitude of water-fowl live and rear their young; the sluggish streams into running brooks, alive with fish, the tangled undergrowth made to bloom; miles of paths constructed through groves of splendid trees, in whose shade in early spring bloom a bewildering mass of laurels and rhododendrons, and dotting the landscape in every direction are sub-

stantial structures of brick and stone, their white sides shining through the trees like the fairy palaces of Aladdin, silent tokens of the toil and thought which the Zoological Society has devoted in the making of one of the most admirable of New York’s public institutions. The portions cleared made splendid ranges for native hoofed animals, and the outeropping granite ledges and distribution of the forest served as natural accessories for the out-of-door installations by simply erecting the necessary enclosures. The area of the park is, roughly

speaking, about two hundred and sixtyfour acres, one hundred on the eastern side of the Bronx River, and one hundred and sixty-four acres, in which are all the animal enclosures, on the western side. There are six points of entranee to the park, three on the Boston-road, two on the Southern Boulevard, the western boundary of the park, and on the extreme north the Concourse entrance, which stands on Pelham Parkway, and is most pretentious. The latter leads to the Grand Concourse, Italian Garden and Baird Court, upon which are located the Lion, Primate, Perching Bird Houses and Administration Building. Directly south of Baird Court is the new Elephant House, recently completed. West of the Concourse is Cope Lake, and to the east lies Lake Agassiz. This little lake is formed by a natural widening of Bronx River, a masonry dam increasing the height of the water. Water-fowl, many of them wild, remain here the year round.

In creating a zoological park, it was the Society’s idea to depart radically from the ’pit” and “pen” by providing the most ample enclosures for the various species. The ranges for the large American hoofed animals along the southern and western boundaries are so large that, although the animals are never beyond the sight, they afford them that element of freedom which a jungle-born animal never quite outgrows. For this reason the species have multiplied to the extent of “what shall we do with them?” The buffaloes alone in the season of 1908 produced twelve calves. The original members of this herd came from the Texas Panhandle, and to it has been added new blood from year to year, the late W. C. Whitney contributing his entire collection. The buffaloes range freely over twenty acres, and their well-defined trails and wallows mark it in every direction. As soon as the gates of the corrals are opened in the

morning, the buffaloes rush out on the range, sending the dust in clouds as they lumber along. At feeding-time the keeper whistles sharply from the shelter house, the buffaloes, snorting and bellowing, start on a smart run, tails flying, dust rolling. To see the long line against the evening sun, the dark shadows streaming out in front, the rumble of the pounding hoofs, is a sight not to be forgotten. No matter how wild the animals, they learn at once when the feeding time comes and the place. The shyest one then loses all fear of the keeper. In the fall of 1907, fifteen buffaloes were presented to the United States

Government and shipped to the Wichita Game Preserve in Oklahoma. The Society interested the Government in its plan to attempt the preservation of this greatest of all American game animals by once more restoring to their native habitat specimens of a vanishing race. Eight thousand acres have been fenced, and when the bison are acclimatised, they will roam over it as they once did, but now under the protection of “Uncle Sam.’’ The following census,

compiled by Diretor Hornaday, shows how few of the millions that once roamed the Western prairies are yet alive: — Total on Jan. 1,1908. Captive in the United States .. 1,116 Captive in Canada 476 Total in America 1,592 Captive in Europe 130 Total in captivity 1,722 Wild bison in the United States, estimated 25 Wild bison in Canada, estimated 300 Total pure blood bison, Jan. 1, 1908 2,047

North of the buffalo range is Rocking Stone Hill, famous for a large rocking boulder of about 30 tons, a relic of a great glacier which ploughed its way over Manhattan Island ages ago. And just above, on the sunny western side, where the granite ledge crops out of the ground, the bear dens lie, the rough, sloping, rock-ribbed hill forming one side, a strong steel structure 9ft in height enclosing it. Of all the collections of quadrupeds,

the bears appear to be the most satisfactory. They seldom quarrel, and entertain visitors cheerfully the season through, From early morning until dusk drives the visitor away, the bears are strictly on view. All sizes and colours,

good-tempered, fat, healthy, and anxious to please; always ready to eat and play. Each enclosure has its bathing pool, and these are seldom without occupants. While one bathes there is another who invariably wishes to get in at that particular moment, and a ‘'rough-and-tumble” fight follows.

One of the nine enclosures, the Kindergarten, is devoted to a motley assemblage of cubs. When a stranger arrives, he is speedily hazed and soundly thrashed, and no schoolboy ever was so thoroughly hazed, after which time he

is welcomed to the fraternity. Occasionally he proves to be a Tartar, and the order of proceeding reverses itself. Little Admiral, now big Admiral, a thoroughly good-natured cub, ran the gamut of sundry squalls until he proved himself the master of all. Admiral came from the Admiralty Island,

Alaska, years ago, brought by Mr. Loring, at that time the society’s field agent. (Mr. Hornaday declared Admiral the homeliest bear cub he had ever seen, and that he was certain he could never outgrow it. Admiral bore the disgrace grimly and grew apaee. His pudgy nose shaped itself into a real bear’s head, his stumpy little body lengthened and became clothed with a splendid coat. In faet, he grew’ handsomer every day, and became a monster. The transition from the fat cub to a perfect animal eight feet in height, when erect, was incredible and astonished the director not a little. Mr. Loring did not see the bear, except at occasional intervals, until he was full grown, but the bear, upon hearing his voice during a recent visit, came instantly to him, demonstrating in an awkward way that he apparently recognised an old friend. (Several instances of this remarkable sense among the higher animals, one of a bear and another of a lion, are worth mentioning. The bear, one of two cubs brought to the park at the suckling age,

interesting and affectionate, developed into a splendid animal, at all times gentle and easily managed. Whenever the writer approached him he would stand ereet, placing both forepaws on his shoulders in the friendliest fashion. Whether from age or discipline, his nature changed abruptly, making it finally necessary to remove him, after he had almost killed his keeper, tr smaller quarters in the hospital yard. If a stranger, >r even the keepers, then approached, he became violently enraged. But he remembered the writer’s voice thoroughly, and when called by name became au once calm and never at any time manifested the slightest displeasure or failed in distinguishing the individual The other case, of the lion, oecurrea in the Lion House. This animal, a Barbary lion, named Sultan, was once in Mr. Hagenbeek’s menagerie at Hamburg. On the occasion of a recent visit by Mr. Hagenbeck, Mr. Eli Harvey, who related this incident, was using Sultan as a model. Sultan was lying with his back to the cage front as Mr. Hagen-

Beck walked past. Mr. Hagenbeck stopped a moment, and then said in German, "Why, there is my old friend Negus,” that being his first name. Whereupon Sultan bounded to his feet and came directly to him. Mr. Hagenbeck had not seen the lion for many months, and the incident might be trivial, but the faet remains undeniable that he recognised the voice. While comedy is usually rampant among the bears, they are not without tragedies, too. A valuable bear was lost because kind visitors refused to believe that food was supplied in abundance and variety. Another was killed in battle, and a sloth bear who became adept in climbing the overhand, once raided the restaurant in the “wee sma’ aours” and was returned with difficulty to his quarters, after he was discovered in the wreck of the lunch room. This gay Lothario finally came to an untimely end on one of his escapades through a bullet fired by an over-anxious keeper.

Admiral broke a partition gate late one night, and seized the Yezo bear, who was directly on the opposite side, by the neck and dragged him through the opening. Admiral had lost none of his youthful vigour, and scandalously chastised the innocent Yezo so thoroughly that he howled for help, at which time the night watchman came up, and with considerable difficulty separated the belligerents, confining them temporarily until morning. At the north end of Bear Hill is the polar bear den, a semi-circular enclosure of steel OCR in diameter, set on the solid rock against a high granite ledge, with a swimming pool 10ft deep and 15ft in diameter, affording the occupants abundant means for keeping cool in the heat of summer. That the bears endure the heat, and apparently enjoy it as much as the bears of the warmer climes, is a fact. During the hottest summer days, when the other bears are glad to seek the shade of their dens, thev may

be seen stretched at full length on the hot rocks. And in bitter winter weather, when the ice is thick in their bathing tank, they sport in it for hours. A sleeping den has been hollowed out of the living rock, but the bears never enter it; its only occupant is a chimney swallow, who has made her nest each year, undisturbed. A short walk through the valley below this point is the Beaver Pond. Here these strange, shy animals have a large pond of running water. . A low steel fence carried down to the rock surrounds

it, enclosing a number of large forest trees. The average visitor rarely sees the beaver unless he passes the pond at sundown. Then the heaver wakes from his daytime sleep and conies for to feed and work. 'The pond is supplied with fresh water by a hydraulic ram, which forces into it a three-inch stream, day and night. By morning the pond is full to overflowing. To avoid the damage which might follow the excess of water, a floodgate in a tile drain is kept open continually. By sundown the beaver, discovering that the water of the pond is flowing away, has his work cut out for him. He hastens at once to his dam, and proceeds energetically to fill up the drainpipe with sticks and mud. It is thor-

oughly done, too, jnd the keeper has to use a shovel and considerable strength to remove the obstruction. If by chance the worker leaves his shovel, the beaver carries it off, depositing it in the water in the middle of the pond. A sign 'elating some of the beaver’s remarkable performances was long ago cut down, carried away and deposited on the house which the leaver has erected. In order that visitors may see the beaver, two specimens are at all times kept in the Small Mammal House. The Reptile House occupies the geo-

graphical centre of the park, directly above the Beaver Pond, and was the first of the large permanent structures erected. It is of buff brick and Indianna limestone, with a frieze entirely around it of heads of various reptiles executed in terra-cotta. The interior is divided into a lobby for the reptiles of the temperate zone, and a large main hall; at the east end of the hall is the turtle and lizard yard, and at the other the alligator pool, a conservatory’ with palms, trees and ferns completing the picture of a Florida lagoon. While the sight of even a garter snake at liberty is disagreeable to most persons, few of them, indeed, hesitate to view snakes or lizards behind glass, and in consequence this installation is usually well

crowded. The collections of the Reptile House are as complete as any in the world. The reptiles of the temperate zone are fully represented, as well as many specimens from the tropics of both the Old and the New Worlds. The longevity of many species is remarkable. The king cobra has lived in one case ever since the opening day, and is a most satisfactory reptile to care for from the keeper’s point of view. He is one of the few cannibal reptiles, and devours his own kind, should thev

be smaller. The moccasins yet living are descendants from a pair which Curator Ditmars owned before the park was even planned, and it might be safe to say that the parent snakes are still living, since the young have grown until the recognition of the individual is really impossible. One copperhead, the only poisonous snake found in the locality, is now fifteen years old, having been reared by the Curator in his home. He is as aggressive as ever, and is the

reptile most feared by the keepers at the feeding time. The large side cases contain a representative collection of the large boas, pythons, and anacondas, many of which produce young. In the proper season we are overwhelmed with the young of many of the common snakes, and among the rattlesnakes it is not unusual to see as many as fifteen young “rattlers” lazily coiled or wandering about in the sand of their ease, the offspring of cne individual. As many as

one hundred garter snakes have been born in a single spring, and many of the other snakes deposit eggs and guard them with great care from different species living in the same case. The rattlesnakes are born encased in a membranous sack, from which they’ emerge by first piercing it with their fangs. When a period of six or seven days has elapsed they shed their skins, and will then take food. That these young pit vipers are well

equipped for defence is asUred, mice dying in a few minutes after being struck by a “rattler” scarcely ten inches in length. Of alligators the supply exceeds the demand. There are at least forty. Every Florida tourists gets an alligator,

and it sometimes appears that the Park must get them all. They live, thrive, and grow prodigiously. In the summer a pond near the Reptile House makes an admirable dwelling-place. Here there is plenty of fresh water, and a great expanse of hot rock ledges for basking, but as winter approaches, and the saurians are transferred to the inside pool, it is filled to overflowing. It is then a case of the survival of the fittest. Besides the alligators, there is a large collection of lizards. One of them, a fine monitor, about six feet in length, when the cage door is opened, glides quickly to it looking for food. He is very fond of eggs, catches them deftly, and swallows them entire. If one listens closely, he may hear the shells click together after he has devoured several. The acids of his stomach dissolve the shells. Through the centre of the main hall is the turtle crawl, a large rectangular enclosure with glass partitions and a

stream of running water through the middle. As its name indicates, it contains a collection of the turtles and terrapins. Not the least interesting are the giant tortoises, survivors of the Age of Reptiles. Fossil remains show that they

once lived on the continents, but the survivors are now confined to two groups of islands in the Indian and Pacific Oceans. These specimens are among the largest in the world, and attract universal attention. The age of one is estimated to be about two hundred years. In summer they live in a sunny yard, where they spend the warm days wandering about, begging from visitors, and greedily devouring the fruits, cakes, and even sandwiches which are given them. On leaving the Reptile House, the visitor passes through Audubon Court to the Small Mammal House. Here there is a motley gathering of small quadrupeds, the civets, dasyures, martins, and many other of the musky-oroured cats. Dr. Hornaday calls them the great omnium gatherum of small species—and large ones also—which fall within the meaning of the term “small mammals.”

There are five types of cages, numbering in all one hundred and' seventysix. Each has its commlinic.ition with one out of doors. All cages are collapsible, so that any number may be thrown into one. The visitor will always find in the Small Mammal House a great array of the viverrines. tropical squirrels, mustelines, nasuas, marsupials, and many other orders, among them that most curious of animals, the echidna, which belongs to the lowest order of mammals, the Monotremes. They are toothless, and produce their young by laying eggs. The Ostrich House, intended for the large wingless runners, • the ostrich, rhea, cassowary, and emeu, is joined directly to the Mammal House. Here are the giants among birds, descendants of the prehistoric Dmornis, Aepyornis, and remarkable for their speed, which is their only means of eluding manv enemies. One of the male ostriches stands nearly eight feet in height, and weighs about three hundred pounds. The female ostrich lays sometimes ninety eggs a year, one of which weighs about four pounds, and equals 20 hens* eggs. These large birds are not very friendly, the keeper usually carrying a long pronged stick like a two-tined pitchfork, with which he holds off the male bird by placing it against his. neck. The ostrich is not gifted with a great amount of sense, arid the male exhibits a great many queer traits which upon first sight might indicate the creature to be crazy. He performs the most singular dances during the mating season, spreading his absurd little wings, ruffling his feathers and making a deep booming noise, and unless one knows the bird is making the sound he might search in’vain for the source even thought the ostrich were directly before him. The ostrich is associated in one’s mind with hot sandy deserts, yet it enjoys a bath, and Will stand under a shower from a hose as long as the keeper will spare time, for it. Strangely enough, many of these birds form attachments for man, one emeu haunting the keeper’s room, standing beside the noon lunch table ami eating from the keeper’s hand. During the win ter many rare rapacious birds are quartered here, ainong them the famous Californian condor, General. South of the- Ostrich House, at the end of Audubon Court, is the Antelope House. Standing on the site of the Lydig homestead, it affords a commanding view of the entire Buffalo Rang? to the east, Audubon Court, Mountain Sheep Hill, the Ostrich and Mammal Houses on the north and the Small Deer House, Prairie Dog Village, Pheasant Aviary and Will-Fowl Pond to the west. The building—which in form is an ellipse—is one hundred and forty-two feet by severity eight feet, and affords permanent shelter for twenty-five specimens. The large main hall is flanked on either side by twelve stalls opening into the outside summer yards, which spread on both sides like enormous fans. Fortunately a grove of splendid spruces, lindens, elms, maples and locusts of great size afford its otherwise exposed position abundant shade from the summer sun, and the

Winter winds. As its name implies, A is primarily designed for the antelopes of tropical Africa and Asia, which, like the bison, have now become so decimated that representatives of the thousands Which once ranged the great African veldt are almost beyond price and not a few entirely gone. The great eland, the largest and handsomest of the bovine antelopes, is represented by two specimens, a male and a female. The male from the estate of the Duke of Bedford, Woburn Abbey, England is fully six feet in height at the Withers. Then there are four brindled and white tailed gnu, for all the world like the fabled unieorn; the beisa and leucoryx, with their sharp, sabre-like horns; ■the Grant, Grevy and Chapman zebras, iwith their clean-eut limbs and gaudy stripes; and two Nubian giraffes, the male now fourteen feet high. To the west of this building, and similar in design, is the Small Deer House, with its surrounding yards. Here is gathered a miscellaneous collection of small tropifcal deer, and the overflow of many installations where births are more rapid than the space provided will aeommodate. As the visitor leaves this building lie fcomes upon the Prairie Dog Village, a Circular enclosure, about sixty feet in diameter, of steel bars, three feet in height, surmounting a concrete foundation set upon a roek ledge. The inmates pursue their habits unmolested or unassisted in any way, except as their daily food is given them. The mystery of their life will always be a mystery; that they multiply is assured, as every spring numbers of little “dogs” may be seen basking in the sun, yet they never increase; apparently the number remains the same. Some must die, and then the survivors, perhaps, perform the last Cite—by walling up the departed citizen in one of his sleeping chambers. The prairie dog has a bright and chipper manner and an inordinate appetite for peanuts. He sits blithely on his own or his neighbour’s burrow, no living man can tell which, and gazes over his little World. .Should a visitor boldly lean over the outer enclosures, the sentries utter a eharp little bark and in a wink the prairie dog vanishes. However, his fear is short-lived, every burrow mouth soon being filled with a tiny head, whose twinkling beady eyes peer out for intruders and in an instant the whole place is bustling with activity. To transport an animal from an altitude of 8000 feet and a consequent journey of 2500 miles to the sea-level, is an accomplishment worthy of record; to successfully rear them, even a greater one. That the people of New York might see the Rocky Mountain goat, it was necessary to make such an effort. In October, 1905, five goats were brought to New York from (Fort Steel, British Columbia, and Ob the moment of this writing all excepting female, are living. In Addition a little male has been born, the first and only one ever bom in captivity, in which event the mother Sacrificed. her life, fortunately living until the kid could care for himself High of shoulder and low of hip, with long white wavy hair, and two sharp black horns surmounting a small squarish head from which peer the great warm, black eyes, the Rocky Mountain goat has a singularly spectacular appearance, and among the sportsmen who have seen them in their native, habitat their feats of mountaineering are nothing Bhort of marvellous. Means have been given the goats to gain the roof of the log shelter-house, about which they run and leap with perfect abandon, and so inherent is this trait that almost the first act of the little kid, when he had gained sufficient strength to stand, was to leap on his mother’s side aa she lay on the ground. From their airy place on the roof of their log shelter-house the goats may overlook the Wild Fowl Tend, a body of water of about two ncres made for the wild fowl. Here at nil seasons live an immense assemblage of ducks, geese, and swans, sporting in the water, making their evening flight as the sun sends its last beams across the water, and in the summer rearing their numerous young as fearlessly as they would in the wilderness. The Pheasant Aviary, with a representative collection of pheasants, stands on the western bank of the little lake, sheltered from the winter storms by a fine grove of maples, oaks, and hickories. Just above the aviary are the Bactrian camels and their near relatives, tha eameloid, llamas, vlcunias, and alpacas. At the southern end of the pond are the Wolf and Fox Dens. The common

red and grey foxes, coyotes, and timber wolves are well represented. When bells and factory whistles announce the hour of noon, the wolves and coyotes make the park resound with their weird bark. As the long, shrill sound peals out, it is a signal for every visitor within hearing to rush to learn the reason for the uncanny uproar. That the native deer should have a large domain has been most thoroughly exemplified in the allotment provided for the American elk, and in an extensive enclosure for this species west of the Wolf and Fox Dens they have bred to the extent of overflowing their range. This noblest of American deer, as robust and vigorous as in the wildwood, has never before been so splendidly exhibited. The best blood of the herds of George J. Gould and W. C. Whitney have been added, and among wild or semi-domesticated herds none surpass them. After years of labour, the mule, Virginia, and black-tail deer have at last come to their own, and while they do not yet multiply quite so rapidly as the elk, the individual specimens have attained a state of perfection closely approaching that of the elk. All male members of the deer family are distinguished by antlers, which are shed annually. To see a lordly elk in the fall, bearing an enormous pair of antlers, tyrannising the herd and his keepers, and the same animal in the spring, shorn of his weapons, is incredible to most persons. The antlers are dropped usually in February or early March, the shedding period coming with the same anima*! nearly upon the same day each succeeding year. In about two weeks a mush-room-like growth appears, increasing rapidly in size until about the last of June, when they have the appearance of great clubs, covered with a dark-brown hairy skin called “velvet.” He begins to assume his old jaunty air, soon rubs 'the “velvet” off, and the antlers appear gleaming white, sharp, and decidedly dangerous. To the layman they are commonly known as horns, but the distinguishing difference between the horn and the antler is, that the former is a hollow sheath growing over a bony core—as in the bovines—and is never shed, while the latter is solid bone substance, and is renewed each year. The one exception to this rule is the (American prong-horned antelope, which develops horns and sheds them annually. It is the only animal known to science that does, and for this reason it is the sole member of the order Antiloeopridae. With the tropical deer the Society’s measure of success is full to overflowing, and without doubt the herds of Malay and Indian Sanbar deer, barasingha, elds, axis, Pekin sika, and hog deer are in points of general perfection the equals of any captive herds in the world. A special house for Asiatic deer has been erected near the northwest entrance, and the inmates have produced so abundantly that the Society is now in a position to Supply others. With the completion of the new elephant house, the last of the great construction work in the park is done. It is a radical departure from the other structures in several ways. Constructed solely of Indiana limestone, surmounted by a graceful dome, gorgeously decorated with coloured tiles, it is by far the most imposing building erected. Situated at the south end of Baird Court, midway between it and the Wolf Dens, it forms the connecting link between the northern and southern portions of the park. Lying at right angles to the axis of Baird Court, it may be entered from either side. Simplicity to the point of severity is the key-note of the character of the architecture. The gay colours of the tiles in the dome and the splendid sculptures of African and Indian elephants and rhinoceroses heads relieve its somewhat sombre air. From a sanitary and useful point of view, the interior is very nearly all that the most exacting person could demand. One long hall, divided in the centre by the lofty dome affords a commanding view of the cages on both sides. The ceiling, rising a sheer 40ft, is a series of timbrel arches, whose vaulted expanses reflect the light into every corner. A series of five elephants, three rhinoceroses, three tapirs, and a male hippopotamus are the present occupants. The largest animal in the collection is Gunda, a male Indian elephant. His growth has been so rapid, and the increase in height and weight so enormous, that a special sign bearing these facts upon it has been placed in the building. The rarest animal is the Indian rhinoceros, and until this specimen was caught not one had been offered for sale

in 15 years. Bathing tanks are supplied the water animals, that of. the “hippo” being so commodious as to permit swimming and diving. The Lion House has been decorated with a wonderful series of animal sculptures, employing the large cats as models. Sentinel lions in Tennessee marble flank both entrances, while just above in the pediments over the north and south doorways are conventional lion groups in low relief. A frieze of heads of the large cats encircles the entire buildings. The main hall is 244 ft. long and, inclusive of the outside cages, is 115 ft. wide. There are thirteen indoor and nine outdoor cages, and between both the animals have free communication. The cage fronts, both exterior ■ and interior, are of steel netting, instead of the usual upright bars. Any animal may be shifted at a moment’s notice by means of a shifting car, which carries an ingeniously worked trap cage, running on a track in the basement of the building. Several of these features are unique and have been used here for the first time. The exterior cages are finished with solid rock backgrounds, the effect heightened by a series of splendid wall paintings. Some of the large carnivores enjoy bathing, especially the tigers, and the pools with which all the exterior cages are equipped are constantly filled with fresh water during the seasons that the animals may live out of doors. Perhaps none others endure captivity so kindly and multiply so rapidly without deterioration, generation after generation, as do the cats. This refers especially to the lions, some of the handsomest of the so-called “King of Beasts” in captivity being years removed from the jungle. Parallel to the Lion House on the east side of Baird Court is the Primate House. It is a long, low structure, conforming in its architectural character with the other buildings. An ornamental frieze, in low relief, of various monkeys, is carried around the cornice; over the doorways are groups of the great apes, also in low relief, while standing on the ridge just above on the north and south ends are two figures of the hamadryas baboon. The primates are known as the fourhanded animals and stand pre-eminent in the eyes of all visitors. Consequently this building is never without its full quota of sightseers. The human-like appearance of the primates and their close relationship to man in the zoological scale compel interest from youth and age alike. Abundance of light and fresh air are the secrets of a successful primate house, and these have been most amply provided. Since its inauguration the collection has embraced at all times a comprehensive series of the great apes, monkeys, baboons and lemurs. The orangs and chimpanzees have been well represented year by year, some of them even becoming famous through the pages of the magazines. At this time three orangutans and a chimpanzee vie with each other in entertaining the visitors in the hall of the great apes. Baldy, the chimpanzee, is a species new to the collection and is one of the most intelligent apes ever exhibited here. In the centre of Baird Court is the Sea Lion Pool, and in summer a number of the Californian sea lions make the court resound with their cheerful bark. Continuously moving about, diving from the rocks, leaping and plunging through the water, they are a never-failing attraction. Curator Beebe has made the collections of the new house for perching birds the admiration and wonder of the zoological world. A building of noble proportions, with many sculptured beauties, it stands in a commanding position on the northwest corner of the court, affording a sweeping view of the Italian Garden on the east and Lake Agassiz and Grand Concourse on the north. Two large halls are arranged for the exhibition of the parrots, macaws and their near relatives, in one, and a very extensive collection of the birds of various zones in the other. The main hall has a series of-cages entirely around the sides with a passage in the rear for the use of the keepers, and in the centre a large flying-cage sufficient in extent to permit the greatest activity for its occupants. The entire roof is formed of glass panels, affording an abundance of light in every portion of the room. Tn points of utility, architectural beauty and number and variety of the species and specimens, this installation is unsurpassed. A unique feature is the “glass court,” where & fine series of the native birds, including twenty-five species of the warblers is shown. A number of open-air cages has been made on the eastern and western sides,

and the hardier varieties of many specie* live there the year round. At the foot of Bird Vallgy is the great Flying Cage, one of the wonders of the Zoological Park; 152 feet in length, 75 feet in height, and 55 feet in width, it towers like a great Gothic arch, covering several large forest trees, a mass of shrubbery, and a pool of water in a concrete basin over 100 feet long. The idea of the Hying cage is not a new one, several being in use in foreign gardens, but it has not been attempted on a scale so large. It is the summer home of several of the large swimmers and waders. In winter the entire collection finds shelter in the Aquatic Bird House, which was primarily designed for the purpose of caring for the large migratory birds. This is the extent of the Zoological Park excepting for a few minor exhibits which space would not permit describing. With the completion of the Concourse, the construction work of the park is about finished. Ten years have served to originate, plan and execute a series of •buildings and installations, costing the society and the City of New York £500,000, and giving to the people of New York a zoological park which in number of specimens, area of the ground, and character of installations, is the foremost in the world. The park grounds are owned by the City of New York and they are controlled and operated by the New York Zoological Society through the provision of a special charter. The city provides maintenance -and ground improvement funds, which care for the collections, plantings, and forestry work. The trees and green turf of the park •are alsb .potent attractions, for as the visitors wander from cage to cage, the moist, damp smell of the woods greets •them, and for a while the noise, the roar and clangour of the crowded city are forgotten. Scattered throughout the park are benches, and here the visitors may sit quietly and enjoy nature, as it has been translated for the benefit of those who may come here. That the park is popular is conclusively shown by the attendance, which for the past nine years—in spite of the fact that transportation facilities have been wretched until the subway system was extended to West Farms—was 9,398,575 individuals. Excepting two structures, the funds for which were donated by the Society, the eost of construction has been borne by the city. The animal collections are furnished by the Society, the net proceeds of the sales of all the privileges being used for this purpose, in addition to the many large sums which the various members have given, and thus far that sum has been £35,038. The good that has been done in the Zoological Park will, for many generations, be a noble monument to the officers and members of the Society who have unselfishly devoted their time and money for the benefit of others.