YOUNG ANIMALS AT THE ZOO. A RTEMIS, protectress of all young
wild beasts, should be honoured with a statue at the Zoo ; for the cages are this year peopled by the graceful young of wild creatures native to every quarter of the globe. The greater number are born in the menagerie, honest little British lions and the rest, of the true cockney breed. Others come from the Gardens on the Continent, notably from Amsterdam, where, for some reason, the wild-beast farm thrives amazingly ; and others, mainly the whelps of the fierce carnivore, are the gifts of Indian Rajahs or of African Sultans to the Empress of India, or captured by English sportsmen in their distant forays among the beasts of prey. By mere coincidence the lion-house has lately been almost re-stocked by gifts which have been part of the tribute from the East to the West since the days of Roman Proconsuls. Five of the new arrivals are cubs, all of rare beauty of form and colouring, and in the finest health and condition. Three young tigers presented to the Princess Henry of Battonberg by the Nawab Sir Asmanjah had reached the Gardens only twenty-four hours before the writer's last visit, and were in a state of royal indignation at their change of quarters from the ship, to which they had become temporarily reconciled. One only would enter the front cage of the den, where it lay on its back with its paws bent inwards, growling to itself, occasionally turning over, laying its ears back on its head, and flattening its nose against the back of its wrist, like a sulky child. Two other half-grown cubs were in that interesting region known as the " passage," which runs between the winter cages and the fine outdoor palaces behind. A travelling bridge, running on rails, and barred on each side with iron rods, is the means of transit from the cages to these outer runs ; and in this the two young tigers lay, crouched and sulking, on the floor. Though not more than half-grown, they are more massive in shape, richer in colour and marking, than any full-grown tiger in the. Zoo. The record of their capture is more complete than is usual in the case of animals presented by native Princes. They are part of a litter of five taken at Charglain, about fifty miles from Hyderabad. The Nawab himself shot the tigress, and had alighted from his howdah to measure it, when an alarm was raised by the beaters that another tiger had been seen creeping in the jungle. On the beat being resumed the five cubs, then about a fortnight old, were caught, each being about the size of a full-grown cat. For the first week a she-goat acted as foster.mother, but they were afterwards brought up by hand with cows'-milk from a feeding-bottle. For food on the voyage to England they were provided with a flock of sheep, and so well were they fed, that they arrived ati the Gardens with half a sheep still uneaten in the cage. The two lion cubs caught by Lord Delamere in Somaliland are hardly of age to leave the nursery, though the difference of temper which is so commonly observed among lions is alreadymarked. One, a beautiful mealy-tinted little lioness, with a thick rough coat like a St. Bernard puppy, and dark-brown eyes, runs out to play with a handkerchief, and can be petted like a kitten. The other is a morose little savage, lying at the baok of the cage, and growling at every passer-by. They are fed on mutton powdered with bone-dust, and promise to rival in beauty even the slim and elegant young lioness presented by the Sultan of Zanzibar.
Three litters of wild swine have been born in the Gardens during the last eight months,—two early in the spring, and one, of four beautiful piglings, late in the summer. Young wild boars are far prettier than might be expected from the rather forbidding appearance of their parents. Their bodies are slim and elegant, their snouts fine, their ears short, and their legs and feet almost as finely-shaped as those of a young antelope. Their colour is a bright fawn or a rich tan, with longitudinal stripes like those on a tabby kitten; and in place of the thick bristles of the older pigs, their bodies are covered with a long and thick coat of rough hair. Family life in the wild boars' quarters is harmonious and amusing. For the first month the little orange-striped pigs depend on their mother for food, and take no notice either of visitors or of each other. Each roams about by itself in the most inde- pendent fashion, or drops down to sleep on its stomach, with its legs stretched straight out before and behind, like a kneeling elephant in miniature. Later, when they have to be satisfied with the food provided in the troughs, they become the most amusing and importunate beggars in the Zoo, the old sow and boar setting the example, well supported by the little pigs. The whole family stand upright art their hind-legs in a row, like heraldic pigs supporting a coat-of-arms, with their fore-feet against the rails, and squeak, grunt, and even climb the wire-netting for contributions. Even if the floor is littered with delicious hog-wash, they prefer to plead in fermi, pauperis, and the yearning to reach just one inch farther than their brothers seems to give an impulse to the growth of their snouts, which soon grow long, flexible, and narrow, like those of the parent-swine. The ancient breed of wild swine which haunted the great Caledonian forest may claim to have been re-established, for some of these are the third generation in descent from ancestors bred in Scotland. But the youngest member of perhaps the oldest family in the British Islands is the Chillingham calf, the lineal descendant of the wild white cattle of ancient Britain. Tho bull, cow, and calf form one of the happiest family groups in the Gardens, and should be studied by any one desirous of appreciating the natural beauty of these cattle, one of which, a wild steer from Chillingham, took a first prize when judged on its merits among the finest domestic breeds of England. The bull at the Zoo has a short muzzle, broad forehead, and crescent horns with a downward reversed curve. Its silky coat is puro white, its eyes the deepest jet-black, shaded by long white eyelashes. The tips of the ears and of the horns are black, and just above the hoof are black and white speckles, like the " flea-bites " on a Laverack setter's coat. The cow, like the bull, is white, with black points, but the horns curve upwards. Between the two stands the little bull-calf, a perfect miniature of its father, except that the horns are only budding. It has the same black muzzle and ear-tips ; even its tongue is black, and the black and lustrous eye is shaded by thick, straight white lashes, like rims of hoar-frost. Deer and antelopes breed freely at the Zoo. The eland calf has a short body, more like that of a young colt, with long legs, and the hump upon the back undeveloped. All the elands are in fine condition, and might be propagated to stock our English parks; but as an ornament they cannot compare with the indigenous wild cattle of the Chillingham or Ohartley herds. Both the wild ass and the zebra have young ones. The young wild ass is a pretty, playful creature, with a coat like grey velvet ; but the infant zebra is perhaps the greater favourite with the visitors to the Zoo. It exactly resembles its mother in colour and in the distinctness and arrangement of the stripes, but is far lighter and finer in its proportions. With a luxurious instinct for comfort, the little creature usually lies asleep upon the light-green hay which the mother pulls from the rack above—a background which contrasts admirably with its rich sepia and cream-coloured stripes. But the pride and flower of all the youth of the Zoo is the young hippotamus, As it lies on its side, with eyes half closed, its square nose like the end of a bolster tilted upwards, its little fat legs stuck out straight at right-angles to its body, and its toes turned up like a duck's, it looks like a gigantic new-born rabbit. It has a pale—petunia-coloured stomach, and the same artistic shade adorns the soles of its feet. It has a double chin, and its eyes, like a bull-calf's, are set on pedestals, and close gently as it goes to sleep with a bland, enormous smile. It cost 2500 when quite small, and, to quote the opinion of an eminent grazier, who was looking it over with a professional eye, it still looks like " growing into money." There are connoisseurs in hippopotamus-breed- ing who think it almost too beautiful to live. We had hoped to find a prairie-dog family, as several of the smaller rodents have produced young ones this summer ; but though several of the solemn little fellows were sitting bolt upright, cramming straw into their mouths with both hands as fast as they could, like a conjuror swallowing tape, there were no little prairie dogs. The kangaroos and wallabys, on the other hand, had several " joeys ; " and nothing could well be • stranger than this dual existence of mother and young, in which, contrary to all precedent, the young is carried by the parent, though it is quite independent of its milk. Thus an old kangaroo or wallaby will put its head down to drink, while the young wallaby, wide awake and independent in the pouch, picks up a piece of cabbage, and, holding it in its hands, oats it like a boy eating an apple and looking out of a window. The long, sharp claws of the hind-legs are doubled forward when in the pouch, and project like a couple of pens on either side of the young one's ears, while the tip of its tail also hangs out just under its chin, In a cage in the small mammals' house there were 'during the summer a number of young weasels, which were, without exception, the brightest and most active creatures in the Gardens. They were absolutely without fear of man,—bold, impudent, and astonishingly agile. They had converted the hay at the bottom of their cage into the likeness of a hedge- bottom, with numerous tunnels, galleries, and holes, and in these they would play by the hour. It was always the same game, catching and killing ; and the fury with which they would roll over and over until one had the other by the throat, and pretended to kill it, was most excellent counterfeit. The difficulty was to tell the number of the weasels. There were only four, but there seemed to be as many more. They were here, there, and everywhere, and scarcely had the tail of one disappeared at one hole, than its sharp, bright eyes were peering from another on the opposite side of the cage. They could run either backwards or forwards in the holes, and no mouse, rat, or rabbit would stand a chance against these untiring and agile little enemies. It is difficult to say why there are no young wolves at the Zoo. According to Tschudi, the naturalist of the Alps, they are pretty little creatures, born blind, -covered with reddish-white down, and sprawl in a heap like puppies. The little dingoes, of which a litter were born early in the year, much resemble this description, and, like the wolf -cubs, are born blind. They are sold, and fetch 21 each. Esquimaux puppies, which are often born at the Zoo, are amusing little creatures, ready to eat boiled tripe from a dish until their little stomachs resemble a cricket-ball, an instance of heredity no doubt transmitted by generations of half- starved ancestors. Young marmosets and gerbilles, Angora goats, ibexes, mountain sheep and wapiti deer, gazelles and -opossums, with a brood of young puff-adders, young seagulls and wild geese, hardly complete the list of the year's increase at the Zoo.
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