Published by

Friends of the National Zoo

National Zoological Park

Washington, D.C. 20009

Phones:

Executive Director and membership:

232-7700

Education and Volunteer Offices:

232-7703

Guided tours: 232-7703

Train tours: 232-7704

Window Shop: 232-7705

FONZ Board of Directors 1974-75

Arthur Arundel, President

Montgomery S. Bradley, First Vice President

Lavell Merritt, Second Vice President

Stephen Hosmer, /reasurer

Joan L. Jewett, Secretary

Ruth N. Nelson

William N. Olinge:

John B. Oliver

Peter C. Andrews

Theodore Babbitt

John S. Brown

Timothy V.A. Dillon Julie Pineau

Ronald Field Nancy Porter

M. Anthony Gould Ted Rivinus

Donna K. Grosvenor Whayne Quin

Nella Manes Lee Talbot

Gerald G. Wagner

Rosa M. Walker

Cecil McLelland

Shirley J. McNair

Executive Director

Sabin Robbins

Writer: Austin Hughes

Photograph on page 21 by Sabin Robbins, all

others by Ray Fass. Drawing on page 5 by

Warren Cutler, on page 12 by Susan Genovesi

Hughes.

Production: Monica Johansen

The meerkat is an intriguing social mam-

mal. A colony has recently been placed on

exhibit at the Small Mammal House (see

page 9).

THE ZOOGOER is published bi-monthly

and copyrighted © by Friends of the National

Zoo, c/o National Zoological Park, Washington,

D.C. 20009, second-class mailing permit

approved at Washington, D.C. Rate in the

United States $3 a year (of annual dues).

CONTENTS

Quoth the Raven .

: ZooNews

11 Down the Hatch

17. BookNews

20 FONZNews

Zoo Staff

r. Theodore H. Reed, Director

i Edward Kohn, Deputy Director

Mr. Warren J. Iliff, Assistant Director

Mr. John Perry, Assistant Director

Mr. Jaren Horsley, General Curator

Mr. Harold Egoscue, Curator (Mammals)

Mr. William Xanten, Curator (Mammals)

Mr, Guy Greenwell, Curator (Birds)

Mr, Larry Collins, Associate Curator (Mammals)

Mr. Miles Roberts, Assistant Curator (Mammals)

Mr. Michael Davenport, Assistant Curator

(Reptiles)

Dr. Clinton Gray, Veterinarian

Dr. Mitchell Bush, Veterinarian

Dr. John Eisenberg, Resident Scientist

Dr. Helmut Buechner, Senior Ecologist

Dr. Devra Kleiman, Reproductive Zoologist

Mr. Norm Melun, Architect

Mr. Emanuel Petrella, Chief, Buildings & Grounds

For information concerning the collection call

381-7283 or 381-7284.

For general visitor information call 381-7235.

Friends

the

National

The Friends of the National Zoo is a non-profit

organization of individuals and families who

frequently visit the National Zoo and who are

interested in supporting its growth and develop-

ment, particularly in the areas of education,

conservation, and scientific research.

As members of the Friends, you and your family

will be given benefits that will make your zoo-

going more enjoyable and educational.

For more information and a membership appli-

cation, please call 232-7700.

There used to be a raven behind the

Bird House that regularly traded coos

with the lace-necked doves in the Great

Flight Cage. He also did a pretty good

imitation of one of the Indian hill

mynah’s most common calls. Nobody

taught him; he just seemed to pick it

up. Like a number of other bird spe-

cies, the raven is a natural mimic. He

has a _ built-in talent for repeating

sounds he hears.

Pet ravens have been taught to repeat

human speech, as have their relatives

the crows, jackdaws, and magpies. Ed-

gar Allen Poe must have had such a

raven in mind when writing his famous

poem. Members of this group of birds

—the crow family—combine consider-

able intelligence (for birds at least)

with a vocal apparatus capable of

reproducing the relatively deep, un-

musical tones of the human voice.

Trained magpies were favorites of the

ancient Romans, and they inspired

some amusing passages in the Natural

History of the learned but credulous

Roman author Pliny. Pliny fell into the

fallacy of believing that magpies under-

stood the words they imitated. “They

become fond of uttering certain

words,” he pontificated. “They not

only learn them but come to love them

and secretly ponder them with careful

reflection, not concealing their engross-

ment.’’ Pliny does not reveal which

words these were. Further, Pliny at-

tributed to the trained magpie a touchy

pride in his abilities: “‘It is an estab-

lished fact that if any word is too hard

for them to repeat, this causes their

death.”’

Today members of the parrot family

are much better known as “‘talkers”’

than members of the crow family.

Though world-wide trade in parrots

began only in the Renaissance, parrots

have “‘talked” from time immemorial

in their native countries. The great

German naturalist Alexander von Hum-

boldt, traveling in Brazil in the Eigh-

teenth Century, heard a parrot speak a

dead language. All the members of the

tribe that trained the parrot had died

out during the bird’s long lifetime.

But, in the faithful reproduction of the

human vowel sounds, the Indian _ hill

mynah is the champion talker of all.

This bird belongs to still a third family

—the starling family. Interestingly, the

common starling has also proved a

fairly good talker. Folk wisdom used to

hold that if you split a_ starling’s

tongue, he will learn to talk. The same

procedure was also used on magpies,

crows, and ravens. In fact this rather

barbarous practice in no way Improves

‘the bird’s mimetic abilities and proba-

bly lessen them.

Brian Bertram recently studied the

behavior of the hill mynah in India and

gained some insight into the source of

its powers as a mimic. In the wild, a

young hill mynah must learn a wide

repertory of calls. It learns them by:

listening to its elders. A good talker is a

bird taken from the wild before he has

learned much of a natural call-reper-

tory. And, like the other birds that can

imitate human speech, the mynah’s

natural voice ts low.

Not all birds have to learn their calls or

songs. A European wheatear, hand-

raised in isolation from any others of

its species, will grow up to sing the

wheatear’s typical song pretty much

note perfect. In this species, the song is

said to be innate or instinctive. In some

other species it is partly innate and

The mocking bird, the best natural mimic in North America.

partly learned. The basic pattern may learned. In some species, including the

be innate, but embellishments are hill mynah, it seems that nearly all

adult vocalizations have to be learned.

This probably holds true for all good

talkers.

Every zoo has its favorite talking-bird

story. The National Zoo’s concerns

another member of the starling-mynah

family, a Javanese mynah. The source

is the late Director William Mann, in his

book Wild Animals In and Out of the

Zoo. Sometime in the 1930’s General

av... bord. then, Director of the

Budget, attended a fair at which each

branch of the Smithsonian Institution

had an exhibit. The Zoo was then, as

always, pressed for funds; and, as Lord

toured the Zoo exhibit, he was pur-

posely brought to a halt before the

carefully schooled mynah’s cage. “How

about the appropriation?” the bird

said, as expected. “That’s imperti-

nent,” replied the General. ‘So’s your

old man,” said the bird. But the. Zoo

got $30,000.

In the Seventeenth and Eighteenth

Centuries it was also fashionable to

teach cage birds to sing. The owner

would repeat a breif melody ona flute

or on a special high-pitched wind

instrument known as a “‘bird-flageolet”’

until his pet picked it up. The starling

was evidently the only species to be

trained both as a ‘‘talker” and a “sing-

er’’—a tribute to its great range in pitch

and its well-known ability to produce

both very musical whistles and harsh

low-pitched croaks. Mozart at one

point owned a “singing” starling. But

mostly the singers were finches or

house sparrows, species whose natural

whistling tones were already rather

flute-like.

One author tells of a woman in our

own century who taught a bullfinch to

whistle ‘‘God Save the King.” A

canary, kept in an adjoining room, a

year later picked up the tune from the

bullfinch. Sometimes, if the bullfinch

paused too long between the third and

fourth lines of the song, the canary

would. take over and complete the

stanza.

Besides those trained by man, there are

other mimics in the bird world—species

‘that incorporate them in their own

songs. Among North American birds,

the mockingbird is the best known

mimic of this sort. His relatives, the

catbird and the brown thrasher, evi-

dently engage in a little song-stealing

too. Appropriately, the family to

which the three species belong is

known as Mimidae. The mockingbird

himself is given the scientific name

Mimus polyglottus in honor of his

supremacy among mimics on this con-

tinent. Actually, well-traveled ornitho-

logists report that yet another member

of the family, a South American spe-

cies known as the white-banded mock-

ingbird, is even more proficient. This

bird is native to the temperate part of

South America and migrates north to

winter in the tropics. When he returns

south each spring, he reportedly brings

with him a whole new collection of

songs he has picked up in the exotic

lands visited on his travels. Our mock-

ingbirds rarely migrate; so perhaps they

The African gray parrot is reputed to the best “talker” among parrots.

can be excused for having more limited

repertories.

One has to be careful when dealing

with the question of bird mimicry. A

lot of mimicry exists only in the ear of

the listener. And there are tall tales

scattered throughout the extensive

literature that has accumulated on the

subject. For example, one enthusiastic

writer early in this century opined that

an average mockingbird might give his

impression of some 50 other species

over the course of an hour’s singing. In

fact, the mockingbird’s song is almost

always 90% pure mockingbird. The

genuine borrowings are rare.

Like species that can be taught to talk

or sing by man, good natural mimics

are species that must learn their songs.

The mockingbird learns most of his

varied song, and most of it he learns

from other mockingbirds. He is a born

imitator because he has to be to learn

his song. But some mockingbirds are

more inveterate mimics than is strictly

necessary. From time to time such a

bird picks up a phrase or two from

another species. Other mockingbirds

pick it up from him. It becomes part of

the local mockingbird dialect, so to

speak.

However, if a mockingbird is in a mood

to learn a song and there are no other

mockingbirds to learn from, he takes

what he can get. There is the famous

case Of a mockingbird that at a young

age somehow strayed out of the spe-

cles’ natural range and found himself

all alone in Massachusetts. His song

consisted almost entirely of borrowings

from other species. With no mother

tongue to draw on, this mocker was a

“polyglot” indeed.

The Indian hill mynah combines great learning ability with a low-pitched voice. No other bird is so suc-

cessful at accurately reproducing human speech.

A SONENS

Meerkat Exhibit Opens

Visitors to South Africa have fre-

quently been amused by the behavior

of an unexpectedly intelligent animal

known as the suricate or meerkat (Suri-

cata suricatta). The name ‘‘meerkat”’

means “‘little cat’ in Afrikaans—a

zoologically inaccurate but understand-

able appellation. The meerkat is a kind

of mongoose and is a highly social

species. A tribe of meerkats foraging

over the savannah presents an engaging

sight. They overturn stones and sticks

in search of insect tidbits, all the while

keeping up an almost continuous “‘con-

versation”’ of calls.

A new exhibit at the National Zoo’s

Small Mammal House contains a little

tribe of meerkats, a female and four

males, and they show some of the

complex social interaction that makes

these animals so interesting to watch in

the wild.

A wild meerkat group living in the

open savannah has a communal burrow

system to which it retires at night.

When a group of meerkats is resting in

the vicinity of its burrow system, one

may stand guard, sitting up on its

haunches. At the sight of an enemy—a

hawk, for instance—the sentinel will

give an alarm cry that may send the

rest of the meerkats scurrying to

safety.

The eyesight of the meerkat is quite

good. A meerkat sentinel can look

straight up and at the blazing South

African sky to keep a hawk in sight.

Dog and cat owners know that their

pets cannot see color; indeed, most

mammals except man and the other

primates, cannot see color. But recent

studies have shown that meerkats can.

Interestingly, though their eyesight by

day is far superior to man’s, their

eyesight by night is not as good as ours.

Zoo Obtains

Brush-Tailed Phalanger

The brush-tailed phalanger (7richesurus

vulpecula) has a reputation among

zoologists as one of the world’s most

adaptable mammals. It is one of a very

few native Australian animals to have

actually profited from man’s profound

alteration of that continent’s environ-

ment. This long-eared, bushy-tailed

marsupial has taken up residence in

city parks and suburban gardens. In

this respect it is reminiscent of the only

marsupial native to the United States,

the opossum—another highly adaptable

species.

A new exhibit at the Small Mammal

House contains a male brush-tailed

phalanger. Branches have been pro-

vided, and the resident phalanger dis-

plays the species’ excellent climbing

ability. The brush-tailed phalanger has

a hairless patch on its chest where

scent-glands are located. The Zoo’s

phalanger can be seen rubbing this area

on the branches in its cage, marking the

cage as his territory.

The phalanger’s successful coexistence

with man in Australia is even more

remarkable since man has hardly been a

good neighbor. Until recently brush-

tailed phalangers were hunted in large

numbers for their furs.

The brush-tailed phalanger is one of the most common Australian mammals.

The brush-tailed phalanger is omniv-

orous, feeding in the wild on leaves,

flowers, fruits, seeds, and insects. It

may take some vertebrate prey, such as

nestling birds. It is most common in

forested areas, but is sometimes found

in open and even near-desert regions.

Zoo Receives Grison

“Grison” rhymes with ‘‘bison’’; but the

grison and the bison have little else in

common except that both are mam-_

mals. Anyone who is curious to know

what a grison is like can visit the pair

that have recently taken up residence

at the Small Mammal House.

Grison are South American relatives of

our weasels, badgers and skunks. In

fact the grison looks like a combination

of all three. It is low-slung likey a

badger, slender like a weasel, ana

colored rather like a skunk.

The coloration of the grison’s fur is of

particular. interest. There is a. wimite

longitudinal stripe on top of its head,

its back is gray, and its underside is

black.

Like its relatives, the grison preys on

rodents and other small mammals. For-

merly, chinchilla hunters in South

America kept pet grison, which they

trained to go down chinchilla burrows

and chase the rodents out. Grison are

also fond of fruit, and they can climb

trées. to get it. Since they are capa

swimmers, they may even do some

fishing.

I’ve been having lunch with a lizard. As

I’ve been eating my sandwich, /guana

iguana on the other side of the glass has

been busy attacking and devouring a

fat orange slice. Cautiously he ap-

proached the feed tray, gingerly he

lowered his head, and then, opening his

mouth as wide as possible, he at-

tempted to surround the piece of

orange. He almost got the whole thing

in with one bite; but as he raised his

head there were still corners of juicy

orange jutting out on either side. He

opened his mouth again and, throwing

his head back, managed to shift the

orange backward and down his throat

in a gulp. | couldn’t do that, as much

bigger than the iguana as | am.

Some people don’t like to watch rep-

tiles eat. Fortunately | am not one of

them; but watching this iguana | think

| can guess the reason. Reptiles bolt

their food. They use their teeth only to

take hold of food—or at most to bite

off a piece of it—but never to chew.

The general rule with reptiles is that

anything that can fit into the mouth

can be swallowed whole.

When I examine the iguana closely, |

can see why he doesn’t chew, why

indeed he can’t chew. He has no lips,

for instance, as indeed no reptile has.

Of course his mouth has edges; but a

real lip is a lot more than just a place

where the face ends and the mouth

cavity begins. Like those of most other

mammals, my lips have a sphincter

muscle enabling me to close them tight

while my jaws continue to move up

and down behind them. In other

words, because | have lips, | can chew

with my mouth closed. But a reptile’s

“‘lips’’—such as they are—of necessity

move up and down with his jaws. He

has no sphincter muscle around his

mouth. I recall a shot of novocaine

(injected near my upper incisors) that

paralyzed my lips for a few hours. A

lizard’s lips are stiff like that all the

time.

My more refined mammalian eating

habits are not, it should be noted, a

mere matter of table manners. After

all, | had ancestors that were reptiles

and couldn’t chew. The process by

which each successive generation of my

reptilian ancestors approached the state

of being mammalian went hand in hand

with a process of becoming able to

chew. And they had to be able to chew

to be mammals. For mammals have

higher body temperatures and faster

heart rates than reptiles and to main-

tain these they need quick energy.

Chewing is a means of speeding the

The indigo snake on the left is a typical reptile; all of its teeth are the same. The rattlesnake on the right

has two front teeth modified as venom-injecting fangs.

A juvenile binturong eating a banana.

conversion of food to energy. The large

python that has swallowed—whole—a

rabbit or young pig is content to wait

on a much slower process of digestion.

He may lie nearly comatose for two

weeks or more after such a meal, doing

nothing much but digesting and assimi-

lating.

Snakes don’t break up their food in

any way. Their jaws can even be

unhinged so that they can further

expand their mouths to get food down.

Often other reptiles do break up their

food—not by chewing but by other

essentially extraoral means. A lizard

may bite a chunk off a fruit that is too

big to get into his mouth whole. A

snapping turtle can tear a chunk off a

fish he has captured by grasping a part

of the fish in his mouth and pushing

strongly against the rest of it with one

of his forepaws. A river-full of croco-

diles, playing tug of war with a carcass,

can rapidly dismember it into swallow-

able pieces.

A further important difference be-

tween mammals and reptiles concerns

the matter of teeth. Because they

chew, the teeth of mammals are like

the teeth of no other vertebrates.

Throughout each of his jaws the iguana

has only one kind of tooth—a basic,

all-purpose iguana-tooth. Only a few

reptiles have more than one kind of

tooth. A rattlesnake’s teeth, for in-

stance, are all basically the same except

for two. greatly enlarged venom-

injecting fangs in front. Mammals, of

course, typically have four different

kinds of teeth located in different parts

of the mouth and performing different

functions: incisors, canines, premolars,

and molars. Reptiles’ teeth are essen-

tially concerned with the function of

getting food and not with that of

breaking it down. This is true of a

rattlesnake’s teeth that inject venom

into the prey or of a lizard’s teeth that

bite off a piece of fruit. In the typical

mammal, on the other. hand, some

The prairie dog has forepaws adapted for taking hold of food.

teeth retain a food-getting function

while others take on the new function

of chewing.

Though there are many peculiar things

about man that set him apart from

other mammals, the way he uses his

teeth is not one of them. As with us so

with most other mammals the incisors

and canines are food-getters, while the

molars and premolars are usually grind-

ers. A rabbit, for instance, uses his

prominent incisors to chop off grass,

then grinds it with his molars before

swallowing. | use my incisors and

molars in the same way when I eat

corn-on-the-cob. The canines and even

a premolar may also at times be used

for food-getting. When I bite into an

apple, | usually don’t bite straight on

but a little sideways. Thus | enhance

the biting power of my incisors by

enlisting an upper canine too—and

maybe even a premolar as well.

In members of the cat family—the most

efficient predators that have ever

walked the earth—the food-getting

function of the canines has become

particularly important. A cat’s canine

can bite at the base of a mouse’s skull

with such deadly accuracy that the

rodent’s spinal cord is _ instantly

severed.

Mammals are immensely varied, as all

zoogoers are aware; thus, it is not

surprising that some mammals’ mouths

are set up very differently from the

typical pattern. Anteaters, for instance,

have no teeth at all. The long, sticky

tongue does all the food-getting neces-

sary, and ants and termites can be

swallowed unchewed.

The elephant has only six functioning

teeth at a time. Two of these are upper

incisors that have become the tusks.

The tusks, of course, have no food-

getting utility, being instead weapons

and status symbols. Food-getting is

relegated to that unique elephantine

structure, the trunk. For grinding, the

elephant has huge molars, but only

four of them are in use at any given

time. Actually the elephant has twelve

molars like most mammals, including

man. But in the elephant all twelve are

not in place at once. Rather there is

only one molar in place at any given

time on each side of each jaw—for a

total of four. Another molar is waiting

in the wings to replace each of these

four as it gets worn down. The replace-

ment process continues until all twelve

teeth alloted to the elephant have been

worn down. An jold elephant that has

used up his twelve teeth is in real

trouble—his species not having invented

false ones.

In this connection it is worth remark-

ing (less we become excessively proud

of our superior mammalian teeth) that

reptiles have one sort of dental superi-

ority over mammals. Reptilian teeth

are replaceable ad infinitum, being

periodically shed and replaced through-

out life. There are no toothless old

crocodiles as there are toothless old

elephants and toothless old men.

While mammals modified reptilian

teeth in their own ways, another off-

shoot of reptiles—the birds—dispensed

with teeth altogether. Birds also do not

chew, and their bills are in essence

food-getters only. Many birds eat only

insects and so do not need to chew for

the same reason that the mammalian

anteater does not need to chew. Seed-

eating birds have evolved a way of

“chewing” inside the stomach itself.

Part of the stomach has evolved into a

highly muscular gizzard. Seed-eating

birds go around swallowing pebbles and

bits of grit. These ‘gizzard stones’’

remain in the gizzard, where they are

used to grind up seeds.

To “eat like a bird,” in folk parlance, Is

to eat very little. Actually for their size

birds eat quite a lot. This is especially

true of smaller birds, who have to

maintain body temperatures and heart

rates even higher than those of mam-

mals. A study of food consumption by

all the birds and mammals of a two-

thousand acre forest indicated that the

total bird population consumed food

equal to about 25 percent of its body

weight daily, while the mammals con-

sumed about 20 percent of their body

weight daily.

The phrase about eating like a bird,

however, originated before people

realized how extensive a bird’s daily

The dorcas gazelle is a cud-chewer.

consumption is. Birds seem to eat very

little if you look only at individual

meals. Most such meals consist only of

one insect or one seed. It is only rarely

that a seed- or insect-eating bird will.

come across such foodstuffs in great

numbers or all in one place. He must

usually search for them one at a time.

Besides, the fact that birds have bills

instead of wide reptilian mouths forces

them to take their food bit by bit. So it

is that most birds seem to be almost

always searching for food, as did a

grackle | watched all one afternoon

gradually working his way up a hillside,

turning over dead leaf after dead leaf.

He’s a far cry from the man who eats

only three meals a day—or from the

iguana at the Zoo who is prefectly

content to be fed only two days a

week, or from a python that gets by on

one meal a month.

The Private Life of the Rabbit

By R. M. Lockley 152 pages

MacMillan Publishing Co., Inc.,

New York. $6.95

R.M. Lockley is the most British of

naturalists. In his love of detail, in

his empathy with the small and

unobtrusive inhabitants of the

earth, Lockley stands with a long

tradition among nature-writers on

that crowded island. Lockley has

specialized in patient observation of

the daily lives of wild creatures that

would seldom appear glamorous to

most of us or even worthy of a second

glance. What less promising subject

for study could have been imagined

than the Manx-shearwater—a

dull-hued seabird that sleeps all day

ina hole in the ground? Yet, as

Lockley showed in his classic

Shearwaters (now regrettably out

of print) the Manx-shearwater has

an engaging family life and is capable

of staggering feats of homing and

navigation.

The rabbit is a natural subject for

such a writer, and Lockley’s

acquaintance with rabbits Is a

long-standing one. He raised

domestic rabbits as a teenager.

As a young man, he tried for a

time to make a living trapping

wild European rabbits, the species

from which the domestic rabbit

is descended. Then, in the early

1950’s a rabbit-disease known as

myxomatosis began to decimate

wild rabbit populations throughout

Europe. The Nature Conservancy

called on Lockley to investigate

its spread.

The myxomatosis virus—or “‘mixie”’

as British country folk began to call

it for short—originated in Brazil. The

native rabbits there had developed

partial immunity to the disease, as

man has to such diseases as the

measles. But the European rabbits

were without the same protection.

In many European countries rabbit

populations had reached plague

proportions in the early 1950’s. In

desperation, a frustrated French

landowner introduced myxomatosis.

Farmers applauded the spread of the

virus; but, in England, the Nature

Conservancy was concerned about

what would happen if the species

were entirely wiped out.

Rabbits are active, vigorous consumers

of just about any grass or herbaceous

plant; and in their absence the

entire character of the vegetation of

the countryside might change. As it

happened, rabbit populations in

Europe bottomed out, and the spread

of the disease was halted. Lockley

found that the virus was transmitted

by minute rabbit fleas, and thus

spread quickly only under over-

crowded conditions. Still, the Nature

Conservancy was interested in

continuing its investigation of the

over-all impact of the rabbit on the

environment. An important part

of this work was a detailed study of

the rabbit’s social life. With

characteristic patience Lockley

devoted three full years to an

investigation of rabbit social

behavior, and what he found forms

the heart of this book.

It took some ingenuity to invade

the privacy of a species as shy as the

rabbit. Rabbits are so secretive

that it would have been impossible to

observe their behavior in a completely

wild state. Thus Lockley did most of

his studies on groups enclosed in

one-to-two-acre rabbit-proof fences.

Such enclosures were large enough

to provide all the rabbits’ food needs.

In addition Lockley devised an

ingenious glass-walled burrow that

permitted him to observe the

below-ground life of one of his

rabbit families.

Not surprisingly, rabbits are very

social animals. You have to be if you

spend a lot of time huddled ina

burrow with others of your kind.

Each burrow system or “‘warren”’ is

ruled by a dominant male, in

conjunction with a dominant female.

There are subordinate males and

subordinate females, usually

offspring of the dominant pair.

esos

NARROW

CONCRETE LINED

PASSAGES

TMI

Though he seems to form a special

bond with the ruling female, the

dominant male has access to any

other female in the warren.

Subordinate males may mate with

subordinate females—but only when

the boss is not looking. A dominant

male may leave his warren to conquer

a new, better warren. Or he may be

ousted by an ambitious subordinate

or stranger. But the female rabbit is

a ‘‘homebody.”’ Once she has given

birth in a warren, she stays there.

Breeding females come along with the

warren when a new male takes charge.

For Lockley, the social life of the

rabbit is a source of numerous insights

into our own behavior. He finds in

their territorial and domestic

squabbles illuminating parallels with

our own. As Lockley puts it:

“Humans are so rabbit.”’ In other

respects, the rabbit has adaptations

we might well envy. In times of

overpopulation a pregnant female

rabbit can reabsorb her fetus. The

Diagram (elevation) of artificial warren for observing rabbits underground

species has evolved a built-in

mechanism to cope with its own

proverbially prolific breeding

potential.

It is perhaps unfortunate that the

publisher has felt it necessary to

preface the American edition of

this excellent book with an

introduction by the author of a

bestseller of no particular merit.

But if it succeeds in its purpose of

introducing one of the very best

living nature writers to a larger

audience, Macmillan’s strategem

is all to the good. At least Mr.

Richard Adams (author of

Watership Down) has the good grace

to sound embarrassed in his

introduction and to be brief.

However, should any reader

hesitate between buying Mr.

Adams’s book and Mr. Lockley’s,

| would assuredly recommend the

latter—and not for reasons of

price alone.

The Incredible Egg: A Billion Year

Journey

by Dal Stivens. 373 pages

Weybright and Talley, New YorR

$9.95.

We all come from eggs. You or |

didn’t hatch from one personally, of

course, but we both have ancestors

that did. Smug in our higher-

mammalian ability to bring an

embryo to term in the security of

a womb, we may not realize how

much we owe to eggs.

Dal Stivens documents and dramatizes

that debt in his new book. He not

only describes what an egg is and

what goes on inside it but he provides

an informal introduction to a wide

spectrum of animals, from fish to

bird of paradise, from toad to

platypus. These animals all lay eggs,

and they are all our fellow vertebrates.

There are the labyrinth fishes, for

instance, that float their eggs in nests

of air-bubbles. There’s a treefrog in

the Amazon valley that steals beeswax

and uses it to make a watertight pool

in a hollow tree in which she lays her

eggs. And there’s the cave swiftlet of

Asia which builds its nest entirely of

dried salivary mucous—the same nest

used by the Chinese as the basis of -

bird’s nest soup.

The reviewer confesses to a passion

for random facts and holds that of all

sorts of information one can have,

useless information is the best. For

those who share these prejudices, a

book like The /ncredible Egg isa

rare delight. Did you know, for

instance, that when you are eating

caviar you are eating some of the

most primitive vertebrate eggs you

can find? That the largest bird’s

eggs ever, those of the extinct

elephant birds of Madagascar, were

over a foot long and equal in

volume to 100 hen’s eggs?

Stivens shows that not only is the egg

an object deserving our admiration

but that it holds the key to the 500

million year drama of vertebrate

evolution. In fact, to look inside an

egg is to see that epic procession of

life forms being tived again in

summary. And in the egg’s nourishing

fluid the emergence of all life from

the ocean is re-enacted.

Something to think about at breakfast.

HONZINEWS

Arundel Delivers

Annual Report

by Arthur W. Arundel

FONZ President

Despite the untamed ecomony, a wild

winter-long energy crisis, and on-going

Zoo construction, which combined to

reduce visitors and spending at the Zoo

by 20 percent, the Friends were able to

allocate more funds than ever before

to educational services and programs.

Sabin Robbins joined us in April as our

new Executive Director, replacing

Warren Iliff who joined the National

Zoo administration in charge of visitor

services. With addition to the FONZ

staff of a business manager, efficient

supervision and management of our

gift shops, substantial economies

achieved in running our safari trains,

and the cost-cutting competence of

every FONZ staffer, this has been a

year of maximizing efficiencies and

sound financial management.

The real story though, is not measured

in dollars but in our success in telling

the Zoo conservation story and doing

all in our power to assure a meaningful

and quality experience for the Zoo-

goers. Naturally, with more members

we are better able to achieve this in-

ternal goal. | am happy to report that

we now have more than 5,000 individual

and family memberships—more than

double that of last year.

Thru free television public service films,

free radio announcements, metro bus

cards, window displays, and letters of

invitation, area residents are being urged

to join “THE WILDEST CLUB IN

TOWN.” To convince members and

prospective members alike that the

Wildest Club in Town is also the Best

Bargain in Town, we have greatly ex-

panded the number of member activ-

ities, most of which are free or at very

minimal cost.

In addition to the most successful ZOO-

NIGHT ever last spring which included

live animal demonstrations, behind-the-

scenes tours, and guest TV star Bill

Burrud, other FREE events this year

will include three outstanding wildlife

film programs, even a FREE champagne

reception in the Elephant House to

premiere a major Zoo exhibit. We have

already taken members on two fall field

trips to Patuxent Wildlife Refuge and

Lion Country Safari; and there will be

more inexpensive field trips in the

spring. Also during the fall and winter

months we are offering three out-

standing illustrated lectures by such

world renowned wildlife experts as Dr.

George Schaller.

Starting in January we will repeat our

successful series of ZOO CLASSES

for all ages with other special classes

scheduled for the spring.

One of our oldest and most impor-

tant volunteer programs, windowshop

sales, continued its grand and imagina-

tive work.

Our most unusual volunteer program

is that of preg-watching. | am happy

to report that a FONZ volunteer was

there at the birth of a rare sable ante-

lope this summer. Our longest preg-

watch occurred last Christmas when a

faithful corp of volunteers overcame

snowy weather outside and mice in-

side to watch Femelle the gorilla thru

the holiday nights. Although Femelle

got bigger and bigger every week, Zoo

authorities reported after several

months that we had been watching not The Friends also assisted the Zoo in its

a pregnant gorilla, but just a fat one. multi-faceted role as social host toa

diverse selection of visiting groups and

In spring and summer months, our dignitaries. We have hosted the Wonshu

volunteers aided the Zoo in important Chinese Ballet Troupe, convention dele-

behavior studies on the giant pandas, gates from the American Institute of

Patrick, the baby Indian rhino, and the Architects and American Booksellers

cheetahs. Association, children of Congressmen

Al Perry, the Zoo’s elephant trainer, with Shanti and Ambika, performing for the Friends’ Annual Meeting.

and foreign diplomats, and groups of

senior citizens, handicapped children,

and inner-city youths. In nearly every

case, we provided free train rides, free

souvenirs, and refreshments, and we

hope a wonderful memory of their

Zoo Visit.

The Friends also published and dis-

tributed free some 200,000 Zoo bro-

chures and maps to arriving zoogoers.

And mailed out hundreds of packets

to those requesting information on the

Zoo and its animals. When you total

up all this and the volunteer hours

given by guides, docents, information

booth aides, and shop sales assistants,

the Friends contributed over a quarter

of a million dollars to the Zoo’s educa-

tional programs just last year.

Finally, this is to report that our most

exciting educational project, production

of a 20 minute color orientation film

about the National Zoo, has been com-

pleted. Its educational impact will be

immense in the months and years to

come as school children and groups

around Washington, indeed around the

nation and world, are given a very

special look at the behind-the-scenes

workings of a Zoo. This film is already

being hailed as perhaps the finest

Zoo film ever done.

It has been a good year. We are confi-

dent that the Friends will meet its

rapidly expanding challenges with an

increasing level of imagination and

dedicated professionalism.

With your help thru membership sup-

port and contributions, the Friends

can continue to play a greater and

greater role in supporting wildlife

conservation thru Zoo educational

programs.

FONZ Ends 1974 on the

Financial Upswing

by Dr. Stephen Hosmer

FONZ Treasurer

| shall be reporting on the 12-month

period ending September 30, 1974,

and all comparisons are with the 12-

month period ending September 30,

hoy.

Let me now briefly touch on the high-

lights of a generally very good finan-

cial year for the FONZ.

Despite an estimated 20% decrease in

attendance at the Zoo during the win-

ter and early spring due to the fuel

shortage, our overall performance

during the past 12 months was still

superior to a comparable period of a

year ago. During the last 12 months

net profits from all FONZ operations

amounted to about $67,000, a 15%

increase over 1972-1973.

This rise in net revenues, however,

does not reflect the whole story in

that the net increase occurred ata

time when FONZ expenditures for

membership, Zoo service and educa-

tional activities were also growing

substantially. For example:

e Total expenditures for membership

increased by 25% during the period

from about $34,000 to almost

$43,000. This increase was used to

support the initiation of a major

campaign to attract new members

to the FONZ.

e Weare particularly pleased to an-

nounce that we were able to increase

expenditures for education by almost

90% from a total of about $28,000

in the previous period to some

$53,000 over the last 12 months. The

bulk of this added expenditure has

been used to finance new teaching

materials for local school systems,

increased activities for the Junior Zoo

_ Aide program, and, of course, the Zoo

film which you will see tonight. Total

cost for our film to date has been

about $33,000, of which over $20,500

has been financed by the FONZ and

$12,500 by a grant from the Morris

and Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation.

We are most appreciative for the

Cafritz Foundation’s generous support.

Another development worthy of note

has been the marked improvement in

our cash and inventory positions during

the past 12 months. As compared to

September 30, 1973, our cash-on-hand

and savings have increased by over

$34,000. As of the end of September,

our cash position and savings amounted

to some $93,000. During the same peri-

od our gift shop inventory has increased

by $16,000 to a present inventory level

of about $95,000. Finally, our outstand-

ing debt (including that owed on the

purchase of the trackless trains) has been

cut in half from around $46,000 to the

present $23,000 owed.

To summarize, 1974 finds the FONZ in

an improved financial position and

increasingly capable of fulfilling our

educational responsibilities. Credit for

this improvement is of course due to

our dedicated and resourceful FONZ

staff, which has successfully worked to

hold down operating expenses while

increasing revenues. In addition to the

fine work of Sabin Robbins, particular

credit must go to our FONZ business

manager, Dennis Baker, and to Mrs.

Farnsworth, our gift shop manager and

greatest producer of revenue. Many

others have also contributed.

FONZ CALENDAR 1975

February 8, 10:30 a.m.

Wildlife films—‘‘ Baobab: Portrait

Ov a nee”

and ‘‘Mzima: Portrait of a Spring”’ in

Baird Auditorium, Museum of Natural

History (10th & Constitution Ave NW)

PRE

February 13, 8:00 p.m.

Greg McMillan, film-lecture, “The Living

Jungle” at Baird Auditorium; $2.00; $3.00

March 18, 8:00 p.m.

Karl Maslowski, film-lecture, “‘Wildlife

by Day and Night” in New Lecture Hall

at American University; $2.00; $3.00

April 5, 10:30 a.m.

Wildlife films from Australia in Baird

Auditorium, FREE

PARKING

Baird Auditorium—free parking available

in the West Parking Lot alongside the

Natural History Building. The entrance

is on Constitution Ave between 1 2th

St and the building.

New Lecture Hal/l—free parking available

off Nebraska Avenue directly across from

the campus.