Friends

of the

National

is anon-profit organization of individuals and families who are

interested in supporting Zoo programs in education, research, and

conservation.

As members of FONZ, you and your family receive many

benefits—publications, discount privileges, and invitations to

special programs and activities—to make your zoo-going

more enjoyable and educational.

ZooGoer is published bi-monthly by the Friends of the

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D.C. 20008. Third class mailing permit 44282. Subscription as

percentage of full membership dues is $4 a year. Subscription-

only membership is $5 a year (extra cost covers processing,

handling, and related expenses) and is available only to institu-

tions or those residing outside of the Washington, D.C.,

metropolitan area.

ISSN: 0163-416X

FONZ Board of Directors, 1978-1979

Stephen T. Hosmer, President; John S. Brown, First Vice President;

Whayne S. Quin, Second Vice President; M. Anthony Gould,

Treasurer; Victor Delano, Secretary; Samuel Biddle; Edward G.

Boehm; Janice A. Booker; Montgomery S. Bradley; William C.

Bryant; Al Hackl; Julie P. Hubbard; A. José Jones; Nella Manes;

Stanley R. Mayes; Cecil McLelland; Sheila D. Minor; Monica J.

Morgan; Robert L. Nelson; John B. Oliver; Joseph Y. Ruth;

Ross Simons; Julia Vadala Taft; Sally S. Tongren.

FONZ Staff

Sabin Robbins, Executive Director; Dennis Baker, Associate Director;

Donna Schlegel, Volunteer & Educational Services; Mary W.

Matthews, Publications; Fran Bernstein, Membership; Tom Frame,

Food Services; Lonnie Wornom, Merchandising; Kevin Polen,

Transportation.

Zoo Staff

Dr. Theodore H. Reed, Director

Office Chiefs

Mr. Jaren Horsley, Animal Management; Dr. Christen Wemmer,

Conservation Research Center; Dr. Mitchell Bush, Animal Health;

Dr. Richard Montali, Pathology; Dr. John Eisenberg, Zoological

Research; Mr. Emanuel Petrella, Facilities Management; Mr. Robert

Mulcahy, Graphics & Exhibits; Ms. Judy White, Education &

Information; Mr. Samuel Middleton, Police & Safety.

Editor:

Mary W. Matthews

Consulting Editor:

Mary C. Massey

Volume 8, NOS. 1&2

January-A pril, 1979

4 What is a Bear?

by Jaren Horsley

¢ The Bear Facts

by Miles Roberts

16 Remember,

Only You—

by J. Fisher

18 Taking Care

of Bears

by Jaren Horsley

Illustrations Credits: Front cover, p. 29 by

Nancy Slaughter; pp. 2a, 4, 8c & 12, 8d&

13, 8f & 15, 18, 20, 23, 26a, and 28 by

Francie Schroeder; pp. 2b, 5, 19, 25, 26b,

30, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 40, 42b, and

43 by Mary W. Matthews; p. 6 by Richard

Clayton; p. 7 by Ben Butterfield; pp. 8a

& 9, 27, 38, 41, and 47 by Sabin Robbins;

pp. 8b & 10 and 21 by Jeanne White; pp. 8e

& 14 and 24 courtesy of the Office of Edu-

cation, NZP: pp. 16 and 17 courtesy of the

U.S. Forest Service; p. 22 by A.G. Schoen-

feld; p. 31 by Cathy Kanak; pp. 44,

45, and back cover by Ilene Berg, NZP

Public Affairs Office; p. 42a by Dorothy

Finch, from Book of Fabulous Beasts by A.M.

Smythe (London: Oxford Univ. Press,

1939).

23 The Ascent of Bears

by Jaren Horsley

2/ Busy asa

Beaver Valley

by Daryl Boness

32 Backstage with the

Seals and Sea Lions

by Emily Rudin

39 Beaver Valley

Who’s Who

by Mary W. Matthews

46 BOOKNEWS

FRONT COVER: The polar bear is the

most aquatic of all bears and can swim

for miles. This photo by Nancy Slaughter

won first prize for black-and-white in

FONZ’s annual photo contest.

PAGE TWO (top): These two brown

bears are as interested in Zoo visitors as

visitors are in them. Bears should not be

mistaken for gentle friends, though;

they are dangerous wild animals.

PAGE TWO (bottom): Intelligent, grace-

ful, and friendly, the grey seal is only

one of many stars at the Zoo’s newest

exhibit—Beaver Valley.

The Kodiak bear, a species of brown

bear, is the biggest of all bears, attaining

weights up to 1,700 pounds.

Jaren Horsley

What is a bear? When you think

of bears, what comes to mind—the

Russian bear, the three bears, Yogi

Bear, Smokey Bear, Winnie the Pooh?

Probably almost everyone has seen

a bear, either in a national park or at a

zoo or circus. But does any of this

tell you what a bear really is?

In fact, the bear is a mystery. For

such a large and commonplace animal,

a great deal remains to be known about

the bear. Although they are a dominant

part of our North American wildlife,

what we know about bears is still

partly myth.

One thing a bear is, is history. For

example, the grizzly bear, part of the

wide-ranging brown bear species, was

infamous in the history of the Ameri-_

can frontier. The journals of Lewis and

Clark from 1804 to 1806 document _

dramatic encounters with the grizzly;

and to this day the grizzly is legendary

for its power and ferocity. Though

some of the horror stories about it are

exaggerated, the grizzly remains an

animal not to be taken lightly.

A bear is also beauty. That same

fierce grizzly adorns the northern sky

as Ursa Major, the great bear, and con-

tains 53 visible stars. Close by, Ursa

Minor, the little bear, contains Polaris,

the North Star.

A bear is religion. Before people

encountered the lion, the bear was con-

sidered king of beasts. Humans have

always viewed bears with an ambi-

JAREN HORSLEY came to the Zoo in 1969 as curator

of reptiles. He became general curator in 1972, and

since January 1978 has also acted as curator of large car-

nivores—which includes bears.

valent love-hate akin to the religious

impulse. The bear clan or cult has been

common in primitive cultures since the

early Stone Age. In native American

tribes, the bear symbolizes power and

skill; to emulate this animal is to cap-

ture some of its apparent invincibility.

In our larger society, bear cults have

been replaced by the Chicago Bears,

the UCLA Bruins, and the Chicago

Cubs—sports teams which, through

emulation, hope to capture the bear’s

power and invincibility.

A bear is fantasy. The teddy bear, an

all-time favorite toy, is like no bear

that ever lived. The teddy appears to

be an attempt to cross the rag doll, the

koala, and the bear cub. Certainly a

bear cub is a cuddly creature, and

makes the fantasy come more easily.

Winnie the Pooh and Paddington,

literary bears inspired by the teddy

bear, are two other anthropomorphized

bears—bears that are not fearsome,

but lovable.

A bear is symbolism: the Russian

bear, sure of its power, slow to anger,

capable of swift and strong retaliation

if provoked. Smokey Bear is a

symbol—an easy-going father figure,

reminding us to be careful in the forest.

A bear is a misunderstood animal.

Bears are large and strong, but not

necessarily surly or vicious. The polar

bear and grizzly bear both have reputa-

tions for ferocity that are not totally

undeserved, but nevertheless ex-

aggerated. Most bears are in fact rather

easy-going when encountered in the

wild, unless they have been surprised;

then they may act first and run away

afterwards. This must not be mis-

construed, however, to mean that a

The European brown bear (Ursus arctos

arctos) is smaller than most brown bears;

bear is friendly. The rangers at most

national parks have lost a great deal of

sleep trying to figure out how to get

visitors to respect the bear as potentially

very dangerous. When aroused, a bear

can inflict fatal injuries—and bears

certainly don’t live in parks for the pur-

pose of posing for photographers.

A bear is diversity: there are seven

species of bears. Brown bears, which

include grizzlies, are the most far-

reaching of the species, found in North

America, Europe, and Asia. The black

bear is the most familiar species; it is

found only in North America. Two

lesser-known bears are the sloth bear

of India and the spectacled bear of

the average adult male weighs 450-500

pounds.

northern South America. These two

‘species are very rare, and may not

survive this century. The Asiatic black

bear and the sun bear are neighbors of

the sloth bear. Rounding out the seven

is the polar bear of the Arctic.

Bears are a family. Ursidae (“the

bears” in Latin) is the family name of

bears in mammalian taxonomy. Bears

are closely related to dogs, and have

been lumped in with the canines by

taxonomists who prefer to see fewer

names in the higher taxonomic cate-

gories. There is something to be said

for this view; bears are like dogs in

many ways—though I think they

would fall short as “man’s best friend”

(and would certainly be unpopular in

New York City!).

While we are talking about

taxonomy, it is important to point out

that the bear is a carnivore. So are

skunks, lions, mongooses, dogs,

hyenas, and weasels. Even though

most bears are omnivorous, their his-

tory and tooth structure mark them as

meat-eaters—no matter how many of

them live on berries.

A bear is controversy. Depending on

who you talk to, the panda either is a

bear—or isn’t. Some experts believe,

on the basis of blood serum analysis,

that the panda is an “aberrant” bear.

Most authorities, however, put the

panda into a taxonomic family,

Ailuropodidae, of only two species: the

giant panda of China and the lesser

panda of the Himalayan foothills and

western China.

It’s at this point that you might

wonder what's in a name. If bears can

be considered dogs, and pandas con-

sidered bears, then maybe some of the

higher taxonomic categories—families,

orders, genera, etc.—are less relevant

than we think. The bear may be a con-

troversy to the evolutionist, but for

the rest of us, a bear is a bear is a bear.

(Now, about the koala “bear”. . . .)

A bear is a loner. Imagine the polar

bear, roaming miles of frozen pack ice

of the Arctic in search of ringed seals.

This is the uneventful life of the male

polar bear, who is social only to the

Just as sloth and sun bears adapt well

to colder climates, this polar bear has

adjusted well to warm weather.

extent required for breeding with the

female in mid-summer. The female

also goes her way alone except when

she has her cubs, which stay with her

for their first two years of life.

Unfortunately, we use the human

desire for long-lasting monogamy to

judge other mammals by. The bear is

one mammal that is not very sociable;

having a “mate” is not the bear’s style.

Bears can be seen in aggregations

around garbage dumps and salmon

runs—but this is more like a con-

vention of hermits than any kind

of socialization.

A bear is size. The giant Alaska

brown bear, or Kodiak bear, can weigh

as much as 1,700 pounds and stand as

tall as nine feet on its rear legs. The

polar bear is almost as big. This makes

the bear the largest land-dwelling

carnivore—and in the case of the

highly carnivorous polar bear, this

makes for a rather formidable creature.

Most bears, luckily, weigh only 200 to

300 pounds; and the little sun bear

weighs only about 150 pounds.

The bear is above all a paradox. It

is an animal we both admire and fear.

The bear is short-tempered, strong,

unpredictable, and annoyingly per-

sistent. It has immense power, speed,

and agility; yet at the same time, we

perceive the bear as gentle, friendly,

cute—a source of fantasy, the well-

spring of a thousand imaginary tales.

The bear is unfriendly, fierce, power-

ful; yet the teddy bear is a favorite of

children everywhere.

It’s hard to know what a bear

is exactly! O

The Bear Facts

Miles Roberts

How many living species of bears

there are depends largely on which

bear specialist one is talking to. As in

any profession, there are differences

of opinion. Such is the case for ques-

tions like, “Is the giant panda a bear?”,

“Are the grizzly and the Kodiak bear

different species?”, and “Which is the

spectacled bear’s closest relative?”

Although these questions are very

definitely unsettled, the following list

of species is the most current and

widely accepted. It should be noted

that the taxonomic Latin for each

species includes the genus (generic

name) and species (specific name).

Together, these two names identify the

animal and generally say something

about the relationship of one species to

another. Two animals with the same

generic name are more closely related

than two with different generic names;

if two animals have the same generic

and specific names, they are said to be

of the same species. An animal’s

common (English) name is purely

descriptive, and often misleading; but

scientists usually refer to the Latin

only when positive identifications are

being made.

MILES ROBERTS has been with the Zoo for nine

years, during four of which, 1973-1977, he was curator

of bears. He has in addition done extensive research on

sloth bears.

Common Name Scientific Name

Polar bear Ursus maritimus

Brown bear Ursus arctos

American black bear = Ursus americanus

Sloth bear Melursus ursinus

Sun bear Helarctos malayanus

Spectacled bear Tremarctos ornatus

Asiatic black bear Ursus thibetanus

Bears are found primarily in the

northern hemisphere. There are no

bears at all in Australia and Africa;

and only one species, the spectacled

bear, is found in South America, thus

making it the only southern-hemisphere

In ancient times, bears roamed the entire

world. Now, except for the spectacled

bear species.

All bears are instantly recognizable

as bears. They are big-bodied, short-

limbed, and tailless. Fur covers their

entire bodies. The ears are small, as

are the eyes. The muzzle is long. All

bears have a shuffling, flat-footed

gait and powerful, non-retractable

claws.

In general, bears are omnivorous—

that is, they eat fish, vegetation, and

meat. Some species are more car-

nivorous, and some more herbivorous.

Bears are mostly terrestrial, though

there are some very good climbers and

bears, they are confined to the Northern

Hemisphere.

pectacled Bear pa

'32'54) Brown Bear cn Asiatic Black Bear

American Black Bear HNN Malayan Sun Bear Vi

OOO00G

possessed Polar Bear == Sloth Bear

swimmers. Bears occupy a variety of

habitats, from the barren Arctic tundra

to the tropical forest. In short, bears are

both well adapted and very adaptable.

Bears usually have two to four

young. These are born in a secluded

location and in very undeveloped

condition. The cubs are generally hair-

less and weigh less than a pound. The

young grow slowly, taking two years

to become physically mature. They

reproduce for the first time between

three and four years of age. Females

give birth every other year. In tem-

perate climates, young are born during

the winter when the mother is dormant.

Only bears in arctic and temperate

climates become dormant. Dormancy

is not strictly “hibernation” (because

the bear’s body temperature does not

drop appreciably, and the animal can

be easily awakened); but it probably

serves the same general purpose—to

reduce activity while food is scarce.

During pregnancy, most female

bears undergo a process known as

“delayed implantation.” The fertilized

ovum is stored in the oviduct or uterus

in a state of suspended animation for

up to half the total gestation period.

At the right time, the ovum “implants”

and resumes its development; birth

occurs three to four months later.

This very complicated physiological

process enables bears to come together

to breed in spring and summer, when

food is abundant and chances for

hostility are low, and yet to delay birth

until the mother is dormant and can

give maximum energy to nursing her

young. The final payoff in this system

Clockwise, from top left: the polar bear,

brown bear, American black bear, sloth

bear, sun bear, and spectacled bear.

is that by the time the slowly develop-

ing young are big enough to emerge

from the den, it is spring again and

more food is available. Delayed im-

plantation is a beautifully organized,

complicated, and delicate interaction

between animal and environment

that few people appreciate.

The following article discusses in

detail the six bear species on display

at the National Zoo—the polar bear,

brown bear, American black bear,

sloth bear, sun bear, and spectacled

bear. Only the Asiatic black bear, a rare

species, is missing from our collection.

Much like the American black bear

in temperament and physical char-

acteristics, the Asiatic black bear is con-

fined to the highlands of Asia, par-

ticularly Tibet, and along with the

American black bear, it in all prob-

ability evolved from the brown bear.

(Ed. note: See Jaren Horsley’s article, “The

Ascent of Bears,” on page 23 for a further

discussion of the bears’ evolution.)

Polar bear

Ursus maritimus

Circumpolar, Northern Hemisphere

The frozen desert wasteland of the

Arctic is the polar bear’s home. Never

far from the open sea and the seals

upon which it feeds, the polar bear

is both the most carnivorous and the

most aquatic of all bears.

With a creamy white camouflaging

coat, a dense woolly undercoat, furred

footpads, a streamlined body, and

lightning speed both on land and in

the sea, the polar bear is perfectly

adapted to the cruel, inhospitable

Arctic. Its swimming ability is almost

legendary; the polar bear is often found

Close cousin to the brown bear, the polar

bear is considered by some keepers the

hundreds of miles from land, swim-

ming tirelessly at up to three miles

an hour.

In the water, the polar bear’s

weight—which may reach 1,200

pounds—is supported by a thick

layer of fat and a coat that traps the

air. On land, the animal will wander

hundreds of square miles in search of

its elusive prey, the ringed seal.

Occasionally polar bears have been

seen on ice floes that have broken

most dangerous animal in captivity.

away from the pack ice. It is believed

that at certain times of the year they

take advantage of the breakup of the

pack ice to catch a “free ride” to sea,

where better feeding may be found.

So large and stable are some of these

ice floes that females have borne and

reared their cubs on them.

In spring and summer, polar bears

follow the ice north as it recedes. It

is then that they may be found in areas

not covered with snow or ice. Because

in spring the females with cubs are

emerging from their dens, and because

prey is scarce, it is at this time of year

that polar bears forage on whatever

can be found—berries, grasses, sedges,

and beached walrus, whale, and seal

carcasses. As the ice pack expands in

fall and winter, the bears move south

and inland, where they den over for

the winter, often spending several

months in dormancy.

The polar bear’s winter dens are

remarkable structures. Usually found in

a snow bank, the den begins with a

plugged entrance. This is followed by

a long tunnel that angles down at

about 40° The tunnel ends in a den

chamber that the bear gouges out of

the earth in an underlying embank-

ment. Because snow and ice insulate

well and therefore trap body heat,

the interior of an occupied den may

reach 60°F.—perfectly suited for the

bear’s winter needs.

Polar bears’ principal food through-

out the Arctic appears to be the ringed

seal. However, there are exceptions.

The polar bears that inhabited one

group of islands in Hudson Bay sub-

sisted primarily on sea birds for an

entire summer. This observation, plus

the bears’ willingness to forage on

whatever is at hand, indicates that

despite its decided preference for meat,

the polar bear can become omnivorous

when circumstances require.

In years past, the polar bear was a

major food source for Arctic natives.

However, human technology, hunting,

and territorial encroachment have had

The grizzly, a legendary figure in the to taxonomy as Ursus arctos horribilis.

history of the American west, is known

a major impact on the bear’s popula-

tions. The species was awarded En-

dangered status in the early 1970s be-

cause its numbers had been decimated

by hunters as well as by whalers and

sealers. In 1973 a worldwide ban was

placed on the hunting of polar bears

on the high seas, although the species

may still be taken under tightly con-

trolled circumstances to regulate local

population levels.

Brown Bear

Ursus arctos

Asia, Europe, North America

The brown bear is the largest of the

bears and the most widely distributed

bear species. In North America, the

genus is represented by such forms as

the Kodiak, Alaska, Kamchatka, and

grizzly bears. Brown bears are also

found throughout Europe (albeit in

small numbers) and northern Asia.

A form of brown bear used to exist

in North Africa, but the farthest south

the species now penetrates is Mexico.

The species attains its largest size in

the northern reaches of its range. In

the islands of the Gulf of Alaska, the

largest of all bears, the Kodiak, is

found. The Kodiak bear can weigh

up to 1,700 pounds. In the more

southerly parts of the range are the

smaller individuals, such as the Mexi-

can grizzly and the Syrian brown bear

of Asia Minor.

The brown bears’ range extends into

coniferous and mixed deciduous

forests. Despite seasonal visits to

Arctic heaths and tundra, the brown

bear is not a permanent resident of

treeless regions—except for the grizzly

bear of North America, which is found

primarily in high, grassy plains.

The last 200 years have witnessed

the encroachment of people into the

brown bears’ habitat and the subse-

quent deforestation of vast tracts of

timberland. With this has come a de-

cline in both the bear’s habitat and its

numbers. In many cases the brown bear

has retreated to forested mountains, a

phenomenon which, in Europe, has led

to the curious pattern of almost 20

mountain “islands” of bear distribution.

In spring and summer, brown bears

may wander above the timberline,

where they forage on reindeer carcasses.

They will occasionally kill, usually the

very old, injured, or sick among red

deer, moose, reindeer, and very oc-

casionally, domestic livestock.

In late summer and fall, the brown

bear’s staple becomes berries and

fruit as it descends into the warmer

valleys to prepare for winter. In addi-

tion, it will eat grasses, roots, carrion,

fish, small rodents, insects —and of

course, it is very fond of honey.

At about the time of the first snow,

after the animal has stored sufficient

fat, the brown bear retires to a den

which it may use for several consecu-

tive years. This den is usually an ex-

cavated cavity under tree roots or near -

an overhang, and is linked with

grasses, tree branches, or moss. Here

the bear will remain, dormant, until

the spring melt raises temperatures

enough to awaken it. It may awaken

periodically during the winter, though,

to feed briefly, and it is easily aroused

if disturbed.

Except for females with cubs, the

brown bear is solitary. It usually con-

fines its wanderings to its own terri-

tory, though if disturbed by human

settlement it may roam over

vast regions.

American black bear

Ursus americanus

North America

The American black bear is the only

bear species found exclusively in North

America. It is also the only species

found east of the Mississippi—and as

such, is the species sometimes en-

countered in the mountains of Virginia

and western Maryland. At one time,

black bears probably ranged through-

out the forested regions of North

America; but today its range in the

U.S. is primarily the spines of the

Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevadas,

the Cascades, and the Appalachians,

though it may also be found in Florida,

southern Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi,

and Louisiana.

The American black bear is the bear

most of us are familiar with, for it is

this species that is pictured so often

begging for food in some of our

national parks. In addition, Smokey

Bear, the fire-fighting symbol of the

U.S. Forest Service, is a caricature of a

black bear. The American black bear is

probably also the species best known

to science, since its importance as a

part of the North American ecosystem,

a tourist attraction, and a game animal

has made it the subject of many studies.

The name “black bear” is one of con-

venience, as it is not always black—

indeed, most are dark brown. In fact,

the species exhibits remarkable diver-

sity in color, ranging from jet black

through steel-blue, dark brown, cinna-

mon brown, and even white.

Even though it is usually dark brown,

the black bear should not be confused

with the brown bear. It is so different,

in fact, that at one time scientists placed

it in a separate genus, Euarctos. The

practice has ceased within the last two

decades. Today the black bear is con-

sidered in the same genus as the brown

bear, Ursus, but is specified as ameri-

canus rather than the brown bear’s arctos.

The American black bear is generally

smaller and less robust than its brown

cousin. Its fur is shorter and its feet are

longer. Its weight rarely exceeds 300

pounds in the wild, although it may

reach much greater weights in cap-

tivity.

An important factor in the con-

tinuing abundance of the black bear

is its great adaptability. It appears to

be an opportunist in selecting suitable

habitats for itself, and is quite a

generalized feeder. In addition, it care-

fully avoids human settlements, except

when forced near them by hunger.

Many people consider the black bear

wary and extremely intelligent. Be-

cause it has so successfully cohabited

with and is tolerant of humans, the

black bear is still considered a valuable

part of the environment—and this is no

accident. Bear populations are care-

fully monitored and managed to ensure

a balance between them and

their environment.

In many parts of the U.S., the black

bear has come to be regarded as so

valuable a resource that some game

departments have gone to great lengths

to cultivate healthy populations. The

state of Louisiana, for example, bet-

ween 1964 and 1967 imported black

bears from an overpopulated habitat in

Minnesota and transplanted them into

suitable local habitats.

Throughout most of its range, the

black bear emerges from its winter

“Smokey the Bear, Smokey the Bear.

Prowlin’ and a-growlin’ and a-sniffin’

the air.’ This one American black bear

dormant period in March and is active

until mid-fall. In November it goes

through periods of inactivity, and

finally becomes dormant for the winter

in December. Oddly enough, the life

expectancy for males is only half that

for females—probably because of the

males’ greater likelihood of engaging

in potentially fatal battles with other

males during territorial encounters.

The territory of both males and fe-

males has been discovered to be rela-

tively constant throughout their life-

times, with males’ territories being

roughly 20 square miles, while females

range over as little as two. One male’s

territory may overlap those of several

females, with each of whom he may

mate during breeding season. The price

has helped to prevent thousands of forest

fires in the last 30 years.

for these amorous rewards must be

paid when other, possibly younger and

more virile, males seeking to establish

themselves may challenge and

displace him.

The black bear’s diet is primarily

vegetation, supplemented with small

amounts of meat. It changes with the

seasons, but consists generally of

berries, grasses, roots, fungi, and sap-

wood. The bear’s consumption of sap-

wood in the early spring, when often

little else is available, can cause con-

siderable damage to timber and is of

great concern to foresters in some

parts of the country.

Sloth bear

Melursus ursinus

Asia

If one considers the brown bear to

be the most “typical” bear, then the

sloth bear must be the most atypical.

Although immediately recognizable as

a bear, the sloth bear differs in having

an extremely long and shaggy coat and

a very long, tubular snout.

The sloth bear received its name

through the error of a museum scientist

who believed that the specimen he was

handling had come from the long-

extinct giant ground sloth, a com-

pletely unrelated animal. On discover-

ing his mistake, he declared his

specimen the “Sloth-Bear,” and the

name has persisted, at least among

Westerners.

At one time the sloth bear could be

found in many different habitats on the

Indian subcontinent and in Sri Lanka,

always close to water. As humans have

encroached upon many of the more

open and exposed portions of the

species’ range, the sloth bear has re-

treated to predominantly wooded and

hilly areas.

The sloth bear does not deviate

drastically from the typical bear pro-

totype, but it is substantially more

specialized —for eating invertebrates,

especially termites. Seasonally, the

sloth bear will eat fleshy fruit, legumi-

nous plants, grains, grasses, roots, and

tubers. Kills are rarely made, but re-

Sloths spend their lives in trees; when

this bear was first discovered, it was said

to swing through the trees like a sloth.

So, a confused scientist at the British

Museum, George Shaw, reasoned, it

must be a “sloth bear.’’ There’s no

relation.

ports of sloth bears scavenging from

the kills of other large predators

are common.

It is the consumption of termites,

though, that best suits the sloth bear.

Its long, powerful claws are ideal for

tearing away at termites’ cement-hard

mounds, and its long muzzle ends in a

nose that has fleshy flaps that can be

opened and closed at will to prevent

the entrance of dirt and dust while the

bear is digging. The sloth bear has lost,

evolutionally, its two front upper in-

cisors; in their place has evolved a

unique oral cavity which permits

strong suction of termites from the

mound. The strong claws and the

unique muzzle, combined with an

extremely protrusible (stick-out-able)

and sticky tongue, make the sloth bear

the ursine version of the anteater; and

indeed it is believed that this creature is

never found far from termites. At cer-

tain times of the year when other

foods are scarce, the sloth bear depends

entirely on termites for its survival.

Sloth bears have one or two young

in November or December. Usually

the female will den alone, and may not

eat in the days just before she gives

birth. Sloth bears do not become dor-

mant, so after the young are born, the

female will resume foraging within a

few days. When the cub is six to eight

weeks old, it climbs aboard its mother’s

back and hangs onto tufts of her long,

loose hair, much as a monkey infant

does. In this fashion the cub travels

with its mother until it becomes more

independent, usually at 24 months.

The sloth bear has a reputation for

being one of the most dangerous

animals of the Indian forest. Many

travellers have been severely mauled

after happening suddenly on a female

with cubs, or even on lone individuals.

It is believed that the sloth bear has

poor eyesight and hearing and, being

intent on its foraging, simply does not

notice the innocent passerby until the

two are virtually on top of each other.

The bear then panics and, feeling

cornered, apparently sees no alterna-

tive but to attack and flee.

The sloth bear's peculiar adaptations

have rendered it more vulnerable to

civilization’s encroachments than any

other bear species except the polar

bear. This most unconventional of all

bears is in dire need of study and pro-

tection throughout its shrinking range.

Sun bear

Helarctos malayanus

Asia

Helarctos—literally, sun-bear—is

also known as Bruang, Wek-won, and

Tsap. It is the smallest and least known.

of all the Ursidae. Found in modern

times in Burma, Indochina, Malaysia,

and the islands of Sumatra and Borneo,

the sun bear probably evolved from an

eastern European ancestral stock in

common with both spectacled bears

and sloth bears. It is found in moist

forests in both mountainous and low-

land regions throughout its range, and

is probably the most arboreal of all

bears.

The sun bear reaches a maximum

length of about four feet, and weighs

‘ The sun bear is the most arboreal of the

bears—more likely to be found ina

between 100 and 150 pounds full

grown. Its ears are small and rounded,

and its lips and tongue are quite protru-

sible, though less so than those of the

sloth bear. Its fur is very sleek and

short, typically jet black, and there is

always a pale patch on the breast vary-

ing in size and shape, and in color from

cream to orange. It is this patch which

gives the species its name.

The sun bear’s feet, which end in

powerful claws used for both digging

and climbing, have completely naked

soles, typical of bears that inhabit

warmer climates. When walking, the

animal appears to be pigeontoed—

like most arboreal animals, and like all

bears, it is unable to retract its claws.

As has been mentioned, very little is

tree than to chase someone into one.

known about the sun bear’s habits.

The little that is known indicates it

has much in common with the Asiatic

black bear, which may be considered

the cold-climate version of the sun

bear. Sun bears make rough nests in

large trees in which they rest and sleep.

They feed chiefly upon fruits, roots,

and shoots; but since they are swimmers

of considerable skill, they may con-

sume fish and aquatic invertebrates

as well. They have often been suspected

of scavenging the kills of other car-

nivores, and they will go to endless

trouble to obtain honey, of which

they are very fond.

One or two sun bear cubs are born

following a gestation period of

seven to eight months. Of these, only

about three months involve actual

embryonic development; the rest

are the implantation delay so common

among all the Ursidae. Sun bears

rarely breed successfully in captivity,

primarily because the females are

extremely sensitive to disturbances

following birth. They may live as long

as 20 years in captivity.

Spectacled bear

Tremarctos ornatus

South America

The spectacled bear, so named be-

cause of the golden rings around one

or both eyes, is the only bear species in

South America—in fact, in the

southern hemisphere. It is believed to

be most closely related to the brown

bear, but because it has evolved in

comparative isolation, the resemblances

between the two are quite superficial.

Today the spectacled bear is an en-

dangered species, found only in the

foothills and middle ranges of the

Andes from Venezuela to Bolivia. A

few odd specimens used to be reported

from Panama, but it is unlikely that the

spectacled bear could today be found

outside the Andes.

Despite its restricted range, the

spectacled bear is considered common

in some isolated parts of the Andes,

especially those with relatively un-

disturbed primary forests. This bear is

very poorly known. So few observa-

tions of it have been made by scientists

that only one photograph of it in the

wild is known to exist. An idea of its

general habits has been formed only

from indirect evidence and discussion

with South American Indians, who

still hunt this animal for its flesh.

Known primarily as a forest-dweller,

where it consumes fruit, leaves, nuts,

and roots, the spectacled bear also

makes frequent forays into the high-

altitude savannah, where it may make

its rare kills of vicufia, guanaco, or deer.

It would appear, though, that the

spectacled bear is the most consistently

vegetarian of all bears. It has very

strong and robust teeth and jaw

muscles, which permit it to process

nuts, seeds, and tough, fibrous

vegetable matter without difficulty.

The spectacled bear also appears to

be very arboreal. In fact, one was re-

portedly found 100 feet up in a palm

tree, foraging on palm nuts and new

leaf shoots.

The spectacled bear appears to be

predominantly solitary, coming to-

gether only to breed, in December or

January —summer in the southern

hemisphere. One or two young are

born six months later in the winter,

during which the bears remain active;

cubs probably remain with their

mother for the usual two years.

The spectacled bear got its name from

the rings of lighter fur around its eyes.

Bears’ vision is not particularly good,

but no one has yet figured out how to

give them glasses.

The decimation of wildlife can in

most instances be traced to modern

destruction of habitat in the search for

basic resources. This is certainly true

for the spectacled bear, whose range

dwindles as the Andes’ great forests

are consumed. O

\ ee My

VN Leg

The Washington Star's “EAR” never

mentions him, and he hasn’t made the

Washington Dossier yet, but he’s a

genuine Washington celebrity, with his

own zip code, three secretaries, and an

adoring public. ...

Who else but the National Zoo’s

own Smokey Bear, the living symbol

for fire prevention?

Like his predecessor, who died in

1976, the present Smokey Bear hails

from New Mexico. Until 1950,

Smokey was only a poster picture of

a bear in pants, wearing a ranger hat

and holding a shovel in his hand. But

there was a forest fire in New Mexico

that year; and in the aftermath, a half-

dead cub was found in a charred tree

in the Lincoln National Forest.

An enterprising game warden con-

vinced a news photographer to record

the sorry remains of the fire, focusing

on the place where the bear had been

found. The photos elicited an outpour-

ing of sympathy from the public, and

an ursine star was born.

When the little black bear re-

covered, special arrangements were

made to bring the cub to the National

Zoo to serve as Smokey’s embodiment.

A wave of publicity preceded the

J. FISHER is a Washington-based freelance writer who

has covered everything from wildlife to the latest develop-

ments in space research.

bear’s arrival. He was met on June 27,

1950, by a throng of Boy Scouts, Girl

Scouts, Zoo personnel, and official

guests. In a town full of celebrities,

Smokey soon became a leading

luminary —even though he got off to a

shaky start at his welcoming ceremonies

by chewing up the helmet presented to

him by a local fire chief.

As Smokey grew, so did his fan club.

A popular song went:

Smokey the Bear, Smokey the Bear.

Prowlin' and growlin’ and a-sniffin’

the air.

He can find a fire before it starts to flame.

That's why they call him Smokey,

That was how he got his name.

Like any budding star, Smokey be-

gan to receive fan mail. A letter-

answering program was started in

1953, based on the premise that if chil-

dren were interested enough in

Smokey to write to him, they should

receive a personal reply. Bolstering this

argument was the fact that letters were

coming in from all over the nation. A

trickle of mail became a deluge, then a

flood. In 1965 Smokey became the

only celebrity in the country to have

his own zip code—20252.

Last year, Smokey’s staff of three

secretaries at the Agriculture Depart-

ment’s Forest Service answered about

105,000 letters, most of them asking to

be enrolled in Smokey’s Junior Forest

Ranger Program.

Some letters contain personal obser-

yw Remember, Only You—

vations and notes. “Dear Smokey,”

wrote one young admirer, “I am a

Junior Forest Ranger but I have to

move. There are never any forest

fires in Brooklyn.”

‘TI would like to baby-sit for

Smokey,” offered another fan. “Tam

nine years old and I am not afraid

of bears.”

All this attention has benefited Uncle

Sam, too. Products endorsed by

Smokey, such as T-shirts, records,

comics, coloring books, lunch pails,

and toys, have contributed more than

$2 million to the government over

the years.

Even though Smokey’s young fans

grow up, and such paraphernalia finds

its way to the attic or to a suitable

charity, Smokey’s message lives on

in both child and adult minds: “Re-

member—only you can prevent forest

fires.” In fact, Smokey’s slogan has be-

come so famous that some posters

carry only the message, “Repeat after

me, ‘only you... .””

More important, Smokey’s message

has gotten results. In 1942 there were

200,000 fires in the United States

caused by human carelessness. By the

early 1970s, this figure had dropped to

around 100,000—cut nearly in half.

Smokey Bear’s success and popu-

larity —in a 1968 national survey, his

name was recognized by more than 90

percent of the persons interviewed —

made him an international figure.

Smokey and his relatives pop up on

posters in Canada and Mexico—in

Mexico, he’s known as “Simon El

Oso,” Simon the Bear. In Chile a puma,

shovel in hand, crusades to save forests

from fires caused by carelessness.

Nowhere has the authoritative and

lovable Smokey been more successful

than in the United States. Forest

Service officials are quick to point out

that after Smokey came on the scene,

national awareness of the need to pre-

serve wilderness and wildlife

increased dramatically —and has

stayed high for almost 30 years.

The National Zoo considers it a

privilege to continue being the host for

Smokey Bear—the most widely

known animal in any zoo in the

United States. O

The first animal symbol of forest fire

prevention was Bambi. The cartoon

Smokey was drawn in 1945—a symbol

combining the appeal of an animal with

‘the ruggedness of a firefighter.’’ The

first live Smokey (right) lived 26 years at

the National Zoo after he was found as

a cub, burned by a forest fire (above).

Taking Care of Bears

Jaren Horsley

In many ways, bears are easy animals

to keep in a zoo. Their needs are

simple. Back in the days when captive

animals were curiosities, a pit and some

table scraps kept a bear just fine. Pro-

vided the bear couldn’t climb out of the

pit, it made a great exhibit. This primi-

tive technique did not change much

over the years; it survived all the way

into the early part of this century. Con-

crete made the pit more stable and

fresh food replaced the leftovers, but

the concept stayed the same.

Some things have happened recently

to improve the bear’s lot alittle. For

one thing, the public has become more

aware of animals—their biology and

their problems. Looking at a bear in a

pit is no longer pleasant. Exhibits have

begun to look like something a bear

might enjoy living in, rather than just

a hole in the ground.

A second development has changed

the size and design of the bear pit.

Animals have become harder to cap-

ture, and the message is clear. We in

zoos have to explore how our animals

can best be bred and sustained in capti-

vity, and the bear’s exhibit plays an im-

portant part in this.

The need to propagate bears in capti-

vity and its related problems have

necessitated certain grouping and

denning changes as well. Whatever the

upheaval, though, the bears always

seem to do well. They live long in zoos,

reaching 20 to 30 years of age, depend-

ing on the species; some individuals

have even reached 40. Bears are seldom

ill, and seem to need no special protec-

tion from the weather. Even the tropi-

cal forms can tolerate colder climates.

It is not unusual for a zoo to keep sloth

bears from eastern India in cages with

unheated dens.

In fact, dogs and bears are much

alike in their needs. This is not sur-

prising, since they are closely related.

A kennel—a “dog house” —a balanced

diet, and perhaps some water to soak

in will do a bear just fine.

The basic difference between dog

and bear is that the bear is often quite

large and strong, and may not always

have the most even disposition. The

bear’s size and strength mean that its

enclosure must be very durable,

escape-proof, and safe for the keeper.

Of course, all cages should be

escape-proof; but the bear’s cage pre-

sents us with an interesting paradox.

The public’s perception of a lion, tiger,

or wolf is that it is beautiful but dan-

gerous. If one imagines a big cat escap-

ing, one imagines something lethal at

large. The bear, on the other hand,

which may weigh two to three times

as much as the lion, is often seen as a

friendly old hulk who likes to beg for

food and warn campers about forest

fires. Zoo visitors are often shocked to

learn that curators and keepers con-

sider the bear one of the most dan-

Bears often “‘perform”’ to get food from

Zoo visitors. Despite repeated warnings

that popcorn and other treats are bad

for bears’ health, visitors continue to

throw junk food into the enclosures.

gerous animals in the zoo. The polar

bear is possibly the most dangerous

of all.

Bears are big, fast, agile, and not

easily intimidated. They can also be

very aggressive. Keepers realize that

bears are intelligent, and that if the

keeper makes a mistake and gets too

close to a cage door, the bear may take

a lightning-fast swipe at his or her

head. If the swipe connects, it could

easily be fatal.

Nor is this rare in the zookeeper’s

experience. Testing the keeper makes

the bear a little different from dogs or

most of the big cats. Big cats will, of

course, do similar things; but the bear

is much more unpredictable. The polar

bear is especially likely to make sure its

keepers stay on their toes; and the

little sun bear of Malaysia has a long-

standing reputation for turning on

keepers when frustrated.

One major design problem in zoos

is how to get the bars off the cages—

without letting the public in. The bars’

purpose is often primarily to keep

people out and only secondarily to

keep animals in. Substituting a large,

moated exhibit for a cage with bars has

esthetic pluses, but it has a few

minuses as well.

The visitor to any zoo which has sub-

stituted moats for bars should be aware

of the danger if her or his child were to

fall over the edge of an exhibit into

the bear enclosure. I have often seen

people put their children onto or over

guard rails in order to give them a

better view. This makes zoo people

break into a cold sweat. The problem

seems to be that modern animal films

have not done enough to turn around

How wide and deep to make a moat and

what to put into a bear’s enclosure to

keep it entertained are only two of many

the popular notion that wild animals

are gentle friends or cartoon characters

come alive. If zoo visitors appreciated

how very dangerous a bear or any

other animal behind a moat is, they

would be much more cautious.

From a strictly animal-management

standpoint, the moat has additional

problems. The animals themselves can

fall into the moat, especially if they are

young. Nets or hay could be used in

moats to break a fall, but both present

problems of appearance. Water is a

good shock-absorber, but it is expen-

sive to use, since it must be changed or

filtered regularly, at great cost in labor

or equipment and utilities. And of

decisions that must be made every day

in the captive management of bears.

course, if a bear falls into the moat, it

has to have a way to get out. If it is

given aset of stairs to get out of the

moat with, it will use them to walk

into the moat as well.

Bears differ from dogs in another

way that should be mentioned. The

smaller and younger bears are good

climbers. If you build an exhibit with a

moat, or with a moat plus walled back-

drop, it had better be unclimbable.

The spectacled bear and sun bear are

both great at climbing walls. It is often

necessary to put up an electrically

charged “hot wire” of low amperage

to sting the bear and keep it from

getting out—though keepers hope

the bear never makes it far enough up

a wall to test the wire. There are “hot

wires” like this in our own sloth bear

and spectacled bear exhibits at the foot

of Beaver Valley.

Before moats and fences for an

animal’s exhibit are designed, records

are made of how far an animal can

jump or reach. It is then assumed that

an animal under stress can exceed its

normal capacity. The resulting barrier

designs take this assumption

into account.

Thus, a bear moat is usually about

14 feet across. The bear can only jump

about six or eight feet; and though

with a fear-motivated head of steam

it might do better, it could almost cer-

tainly not make a 14-foot jump. In

addition, an animal’s side of a moat is

usually slightly lower than the public’s

side, so the animal must jump upward

as well as outward. This makes it even

more unlikely the animal could jump

the moat and escape.

Cleaning a bear’s cage is often diffi-

cult, since the bear must be shifted

either into another cage or into a hold-

ing cage or den. It is rare to have a

keeper enter a cage that contains a

bear, or any potentially dangerous

zoo animal, unless the animal has been

sedated. Thus, if you want to cleana

bear’s cage and the bear itself doesn’t

want to move, you're stuck. Our

polar bear exhibit, for example, often

cannot be cleaned until Snowstar, our

reluctant female, can be persuaded to

abdicate. Two weeks may go by be-

fore she can finally be closed into a den

and the yard cleaned.

A bear’s diet is a little more diver-

sified than that of most carnivores.

Lions and tigers eat a special meat-

base diet, as do most of the smaller car-

nivores. The bears continue their dog-

like ways as omnivores. However, all

bears are not equally omnivorous.

The polar bear spends most of its life in

the wild feeding on seals, carrion, and

fish. In a zoo, this species will be given

a diet high in meat and fish, with some

vegetable matter added, though some

zoos feed them only meat and fish.

The spectacled bear of South America’s

Andes, on the other hand, is more

herbivorous and will eat little meat.

Most of the remaining bear species

will get carrots, apples, bananas, corn,

kibble-type dog food, and a small por-

tion of meat according to individual

preference.

Bears’ diets have not previously

been considered a problem, since bears

hold weight well and live a long time.

However, they don’t all breed equally

well. The Zoo’s new nutritionist, Olav

Oftedal, is studying the bears’ diets and

making changes where they are

needed, since it may turn out in the

long run that low fertility or the in-

ability of mothers to nurse their young

has a nutritional basis.

Other needs of bears must be con-

sidered in bear management. To a

greater or lesser degree, depending on

the species, bears need places to climb.

Most of them also need a pool to soak

in during the warmer months of the

year. Supplying the pool is no real

problem; supplying climbing

material is.

Spectacled, sloth, and sun bears are

all good climbers. The spectacled bear

is highly arboreal and will spend a

great deal of time up ina tree. Young

bears of most other species will also

climb trees—in the case of the black

bear, as an escape from potential

danger. It is thus necessary to put large,

dead trees in many of the bear ex-

hibits to give the bears access to climb-

ing materials. The trees can be placed

upright, with cross-pieces attached so

the bears can get off the ground. Even

with the large, non-climbing brown

bears, a log or two is provided

The sloth bear, like the sun bear, is a

great climber. Its powerful claws are

especially useful for tearing through

cement-hard termite mounds.

for scratching.

Putting a tree in a bear’s exhibit pre-

sents a problem. If a log is supplied

that can be rolled, the bears might roll

it across a moat and use it to escape. If

the tree stands upright, it is potentially

a hazard if it can be toppled over and

used the same way. One must also

worry about tall trees growing near

the bear cages. Heavy windstorms can

knock a tree into a cage—and again the

bear can use it as a bridge to freedom.

One phenomenon often seen in

bears, as well as in other animals, is that

of weaving or pacing. It is often called

stereotyped behavior and, it is theo-

rized, evolves out of boredom. This

behavior can be seen in our own polar

bear male, who swims in a circle in his

pool, over and over, bouncing off of

the front and rear walls of his under-

water arena. He brought this behavior

from his old cage, where his pool

was much smaller.

Any type of weaving or pacing,

whatever its cause or purpose, can

detract from an exhibit. Our animal

trainers attempt to correct it by teach-

ing the animal other motor patterns

that conflict with its stereotyped be-

havior. With just such distractions, we

hope to stop the polar bear’s under-

water “pacing.”

The Zoo is also attempting to halt the

bears’ habit of begging for food. “Feed-

ing the bears” has become a national

pastime, and of course it is great fun.

Unfortunately, it makes for fat bears.

Despite our repeated requests of

“Please don’t feed the bears,” a bear

quickly learns that if it waves or begs,

the admiring public will toss it popcorn

or marshmallows. Animal trainers are

The Zoo’s young male polar bear swims

in circles in one small corner of his pool.

trying to teach bears not to beg, in

hopes that their diet can remain

balanced—but their worst opposition

is the bear’s sweet tooth and the

public’s willingness to indulge it.

Up to this point, we have discussed

the management of bears in captivity

as if the only problems lay in how to

Keepers are working to train him into

less stereotyped behavior.

keep the animal alive and healthy.

Fifty years ago, this of course was the

concern. Now things have changed.

In most zoos, propagation programs are

the major emphasis.

There are three obstacles to a suc-

cessful propagation program. The

first is how to get the species to breed

in captivity. The second is what to do

with the offspring. And the third is

how to maintain a genetic diversity

that will minimize the loss of essential,

heritable traits.

When zoos pat themselves on the

Please dont feed the bears!. .. One bear

“was fed to suffocation by the thousands

of visitors, and. . . grew so fat that he

back for having bred a species, they

have only dealt with the first of the

problems. Once a species is bred suc-

cessfully, regularly, the placement of

babies becomes a problem—and the

cold world of reality suddenly

appears. Most zoos already have all

could not walk.’’ His weight was

estimated at 2,200 pounds before he

died in 1899.

the bears they can handle, and they too

are breeding several species of bears.

In fact, they are probably breeding the

same species of bears we are. There is

no room for most baby bears in other

zoos. Bear cubs could be released to

the wild—but this is more a dream than

a real possibility, at least for the

moment.

The bear cubs could also be sent to

circuses, animal acts, game ranches, or

drive-through zoos; but these alter-

natives are also quickly saturated. The

zoo must in the end decide whether

to stop breeding or to euthanize un-

wanted offspring.

Further complicating the problem is

at what stage in the cub’s life you can

decide it is “unwanted.” If conforma-

tion to breed standard is the question,

you might have to wait until the animal

is an adult. As with horses and dogs,

ZOO animals may be thoroughbred,

half-bred, or mongrel. And as with

horses and dogs, it is not until an

animal is fully grown that it may be

determined whether or not it conforms

to its species ideal.

Obviously, this is a complex and con-

troversial issue. Even if there were

plenty of space for all the animals,

one would still have to decide which

bears should be bred to which to mini-

mize inbreeding and the loss of diver-

sity. This involves the use of people

and sometimes of computers, and it

requires a lot of cooperation be-

tween Zoos.

Propagation, then, is the new concern

of captive animal management. It is

just now becoming our major problem

in the captive management of bears—

but considering that many bear species

are endangered, it is also our major

hope for bears in the wild. 0

The Ascent of Bears

Jaren Horsley

When my mother begins to recount

the genealogical details of our family

tree, | immediately fall asleep. And the

book of Genesis is not my idea of

stimulating reading —plowing through

all those lists of names and “begats”

is like going to your spouse’s office

party: you'd really rather be some-

place else.

Unfortunately, any article on the

evolution of bears stands a good

chance of falling into the “begat”

category of interest. As you are led

back through the Pleistocene, you

may start nodding off —and at the

Oligocene, I may lose you entirely. In

self-defense, I want to remind you of

my favorite quote: “There are no un-

interesting things in this world—only

uninterested people.”

To make things easier, let me first

introduce the cast of characters. There

are seven species of bears in existence

today. (If you count the giant panda,

as a few authors do, there are eight;

but for the purposes of this article, we'll

consider the panda as family Ailuri-

podidae, not family Ursidae—no more

than a country cousin to the bear.)

Miles Roberts’ article, “The Bear Facts,”

in this issue of ZooGoer gives an ex-

cellent summary of the bears’

names—both English and Latin—and

where they can be found geographical-

ly, along with their physical char-

Polar bears and brown bears are such

close evolutionary relations that they

acteristics, personal habits, and what

they have for lunch. So let me just re-

mind you of the English names of our

subjects: the brown bear, polar bear,

American black bear, Asiatic black

bear, spectacled bear, sloth bear, and

sun bear.

can mate and produce fertile—if odd- |

looking—off-spring.

Since time changes all things, it will

be easiest for us as we trace the evolu-

tion of the bears to work backward

from forms we know; then when we

find that a branch of the bears’ gene-

The spectacled bear is the most herbivor-

ous of the bears, though, like all bears,

alogical “tree” forks, we can work

back up the new branch toward the

present and see what lives at its tip.

I will start by saying that bears are

the most recently evolved of the car-

nivores (unless you count the pinni-

peds, seals and sea lions, as part of the

order Carnivora), and the various species

of bears are only superficially different

from each other. In addition, some are

more closely related than others. Try-

ing to determine the distance between

relatives (whether two bear species are

first cousins or only in-laws) is what

omnivorous. Scientists believe this bear

is the ancestor of sun and sloth bears.

causes the occasional, frustrating name-

changes found in zoological literature.

Those who have to use scientific

names often ask, “Why can’t they stick

with one set of names?” The problem

is that the name is supposed to indicate

the closeness of the relationship. As

researchers work through the evolu-

tionary history of bears, they find new

data or new disagreements on the

distance between lineages. So the

names change. For example, up until

about 20 years ago, Asiatic black bears,

American black bears, and polar bears

were thought not to be closely related

to brown bears; so their genera were,

respectively, Selenarctos, Euarctos, and

Thalarctos. Now researchers believe

that all four species are the same

genus, Ursus.

For the purpose of this article,

though, let’s ignore all that contro-

versy. We'll start at the top branch of

the bears’ family tree, labeled “brown

bear.” Brown bears seem a good place

to start, since they are the most wide-

spread on the bear species and are

well established.

Working back down the branch and

passing backward through time, we

come to a point about 30,000 years

ago where the branch meets a fork.

Only a short way up the new branch

are the present-day polar bears.

Thirty thousand years is a flash in the

total expanse of mammalian evolu-

tion. Thus, polar bears and brown bears

are really not very different from each

other. It is not surprising that they

have bred in the National Zoo and

produced fertile hybrid offspring. This

has happened more than once, and cer-

tainly indicates a recent separation of

the forms and a common history. Even

though on the surface they appear dif-

ferent, the polar bear and the brown

bear are much alike, especially on the

cellular level. This should not be taken

to mean, however, that they are the

same species. Geography, biology,

behavior and temperament all play

their parts; so though brown bears and

polar bears may interbreed in captivity,

such an event would be highly

unlikely in nature.

Going back to the fork in the tree

that joins brown bears and polar bears,

we again head downward through

time, looking for the next junction. As

we proceed, we notice that the brown

bear changes very gradually in appear-

ance. This very slow alteration makes

_ it difficult to decide when to start

calling the brown bear by a different

name. At what point is it different

enough to say that it is no longer a

brown bear?

As we drift downward and debate

this point, we find another fork in

the tree at about the 1,000,000-year

mark (in the late Pleistocene era). This

is convenient; since we have been

thinking over whether or not and

when to rename our brown bear, we

will use this juncture to start calling

it the Etruscan bear.

During our journey, we noted a few

things. While we were looking for in-

formation, our search slowly moved -

from North America across the Bering

Sea to the old world. What we found

was that about 30,000 years back, at

about the time the brown bears and

polar bears branched, there were no

bears in North America; we could only

find them in Europe and Asia. In addi-

tion, we didn’t really see the gradual

changes in the bears, since the infor-

mation came only in bits and pieces,

and the further back we went, the

fewer pieces we found.

All this helped us make our decision

about naming the Etruscan bear. If

the brown bear’s evolution had been as

continuous as we at first claimed, the

change of name would seem totally

arbitrary. But instead of easily follow-

ing our metaphorical tree branch, we

instead are picking up bits of twig and

bark and piecing them together. This

Way, We can give a separate name to

each fragment; but it is important not

to lose sight of the fact that the tree

branch at one time really was con-

tinuous, and in many cases the names

Ce 2

Years & & <<

oe o < ene a4 Se

Fo Bi PO ee

3,000,000

4,000,000

Cave Bear

8,000,000

The fossil record is far from complete,

but scientists believe the bear’s “Roots”

Common Ancestor \¥ \ |

| go back at least 8,000,000 years.

to asmall and hardly recognizable

version of the bear. This is another

good time to rename our animal—we

will now call it the Auvergne bear.

Since there is no fork here and this

bear is just a fragment of the branch,

we proceed downward.

We quickly —at about the 8,000,000-

year mark, give or take a million years

among friends—come to a fork which,

if followed upward, would take us to

the spectacled bear, and much later —

oh, say, at maybe the 1,000,000-year

mark—the sloth bear and the sun bear.

Information on this side of the tree is

very hard to come by, since the fossil

record is poor. By starting with the

brown bear's branch of the gene-

alogical tree, we made a wise choice.

It’s dark down here near the tree-

trunk, but I am determined to find

where and when bears stop being bears

and become something else. To do this,

we have to go back between 20 and 30

million years, to the late Oligocene

really are arbitrary.

The Etruscan bear, a small animal,

now stands before us at the fork of the

tree. To find out where the other

branch goes means backtracking a

million years to the present. This

tedious task is worthwhile, since we

note that in this direction the Etruscan

bear takes on the appearance of the

well-known black bear. At the

750,000-year mark, this branch divides

again, and we trace each branch to find

the closely related American and

Asiatic black bears.

Now we can go back down to where

we left the Etruscan bear. We must

go deeper, since some of the bear

species have not yet been traced; but

after the 1,000,000-year mark, things

get rough and the record becomes

murky. From here on, we shall have

to hold hands and fumble in the murk

a little, as we enter the middle king-

dom, the Pleiocene. 2

Descending the Etruscan branch

Amphicyon, a dog-like bear—or bear-lik

down to 7,000,000 years ago, we come mpnicyon, a dog-like bear—or bear-like

dog—is one of the bear’s earliest an-

cestors. Above, the brown bear is the

or the early Miocene eras, where we

find some dog-like bears—or bear-like

dogs. Some of these creatures are called

Hemicyon, Dinocyon, Amphicyon, and

Cephalogale. That’s about it. The dog

family had already been around a few

million years or so; these creatures

are the ones that parted from the

canids and were part of the lineage

that later became bears.

To go back any further than this

would serve little purpose, since the

creatures we would trace are too-

distant ancestors to be of any value in

learning about bears. Is anyone really

interested in the insectivore ancestors

that “begat” all carnivores, or the

ictidosaurs that “begat” all mammals?

It would be better to quickly return to

the present with our now-somewhat-

clearer picture of the seven species of

bears and their family tree, and call

it a day.

So much for genealogy. Tennis,

anyone? S&S

widest-spread and most representative

of the bear species.

Busy asa

Beaver Valley

Daryl Boness

Over the past ten years, or so, con-

struction of new facilities or re-

modelling of old ones has become

a common sight around the National

Zoo. Beaver Valley, in the center of

the Zoo, is the most recent product

of this process.

Remodelling of old exhibits and con-

struction of new ones may occur for a

variety of reasons. First, there may be a

change in the general philosophy of a

Zoo as a result of the continuing flow of

information from scientific research or

public opinion. Second, the old ex-

hibits may have deteriorated to the

point where it is more costly to repair

them than to redo them. Third, changes

in government regulations regarding

captive animals may require changing

exhibits to meet new specifications.

Visitors to the National Zoo should

notice immediately that a change in

philosophy has taken place over the

last decade. All through the Zoo, en-

closures are larger and more open

wherever possible; the intent is to make

each exhibit as close to the animal’s

natural environment—and as attractive

to the visitor —as possible, and at the

same time to be able to keep the ex-

DARYL BONESS came to the Zoo in July, 1978 as

curator of aquatic animals. Before that time he spent four

and a half years studying grey seals, with Sable Island,

Nova Scotia as his base of operations.

Beaver Valley opened officially on May

4, 1979, to enthusiastic FONZ friends

and Washington well-wishers.

hibit clean. Beaver Valley is a fine

example of what this philosophy

can mean.

Many readers will remember Beaver

Valley as it used to be. At the lower

end there were chain-link-fenced en-

closures for cape hunting dogs, din-

goes, coyotes, and timber wolves. Next

came a concrete pool with sea lions,

and then a terraced yard, with a pool

and dam, with beavers. The beavers,

however, were such inconspicuous

cheetahs are so inconspicuous that

many zoogoers do not realize their

yard is an exhibit at all!

As is typical of all major projects,

the plans for Beaver Valley evolved

over several years. For example, there

was originally a proposal to have a

series of pools with several species of

sea lions and seals on display. It was

later decided to display a single species

each of the sea lions and seals. This

would allow the Zoo to build larger

Rather than building obtrusive con-

crete structures, the new architect sug-

gested building exhibits that would

mold into the contours of the valley.

Holding pens and filter buildings

would be camouflaged as much as

possible by rock-work and foliage. The

new plan emphasized naturalness and

openness in Beaver Valley’s exhibits

and was acceptable to everyone. By

the end of 1976 the design of the new

Beaver Valley was complete.

“Rock” made of a combination of fiber-

glass and concrete is lighter, easier, and

animals that over the years the Zoo

experimented with including other

animals in their exhibit—at various

times, tapirs, anteaters, swans, and

turtles. In the middle of the valley were

agoutis, raccoon dogs, cheetahs, otters,

crocodiles, and caimans.

Some of these exhibits were torn

down in 1972 and 1973. The rest

stayed until the beginning of the new

construction in the fall of 1977. The

cheetah yard is still there—but some

changes will eventually be made; the

more flexible to work with than real

rock—and it’s indistinguishable from the real thing.

exhibits for them and eventually to

establish breeding colonies in

each exhibit.

Not surprisingly, designing a zoo

exhibit takes more than a few months—

and rarely is the first design acceptable.

There are too many complex, inter-

related factors to be taken into account.

The first architect hired proposed

massive concrete structures that would

protrude from the sides of Beaver

Valley and distract attention com-

pletely from its beautiful landscaping.

Finally a new architectural firm,

Kent Cooper Associates, was hired.

Between the time the design for the

valley was accepted and fall of 1977,

the details of each exhibit were worked

out by members of the Zoo’s curatorial

staff. The planners were faced with

such major considerations as how the

water should be treated to reduce its

bacterial content and how the beaver

pond should be designed to improve

the chances of the beavers’ building a

dam across it. At the same time, the

planners had to think about more mun-

dane things—where water faucets

and drains should be located, and

so forth.

Invariably with a task this big, not

everything is thought of; changes have

to be made. A good example of this

is the seals’ and sea lions’ food prepara-

tion room, which was left out of the

original design. Fortunately, it was

possible to add it to the plans without

too much trouble. However, the

keepers who use the room must

be fairly slim—it is no more than

three feet wide!

Another change made to the

original plans was the addition of grot-

toes on the grey seal beach. The

Marine Mammal Commission felt

that more areas were needed for shade

than had originally been designed. So

the rock-work in the background was

modified to include two ledges that

protrude over the seals’ beach and

give shade.

This modification in the rock-work

was relatively easy —because the rock,

as you would discover if you tapped on

it, is not real. Most of the “rocks” in

Beaver Valley are made of fiberglass

and concrete. For example, the section

of rock-work along the back of the sea

lion and seal exhibits was built first by

spraying latex on the side of a real rock

cliff. The resulting rubber mold was

then used to cast the artificial structure.

The new sea lion exhibit should be a

delight to its inhabitants. The pool

holds 450,000 gallons of water, is about

135 feet long, and is as deep as ten feet.

The almost 1,300 square feet of beach

area simulates the rocky beaches where

these animals make their homes in the

wild. The exhibit should be a zoogoer’s

delight as well—not only is there

underwater viewing, but there is also

Both visitors to the new enclosure and its

inhabitants find the underwater viewing

ample space for people to sit and watch

these active, interesting animals.

The National Zoo’s two male and

five female sea lions had all been mal-

nourished pups when retrieved by

California’s Marineland through its

special rescue operation. By the time

the animals came to the Zoo in

October 1978, a little over a year later,

they were in excellent health.

The grey seals (two males and one

female) which arrived at the Zoo in

mid-January 1979 had been with the

U.S. Navy in San Diego most of their

lives. Two of the animals were cap-

tured as pups on the pack ice around

Iceland; the third was taken as a pup

window otterly delightful.

from Sable Island, Nova Scotia—also a

chilly beginning, as I can attest

from experience!

The Navy had been trying to deter-

mine how well the seals could be

trained to perform certain underwater

tasks. Among these were: to discrimi-

nate between aural tones of different

frequences; to open and close valves;

and to attach a marker balloon to an

object under water. Although the

seals were able to perform most of

these tasks, the Navy decided that

sea lions were easier to train; it there-

fore terminated its program with the

FONZ volunteers kept watch for several days to make sure that the new enclosures in Beaver Valley really do enclose.

grey seals and sent them to us.

The seal exhibit is similar in design

to the sea lions’. It is smaller, however,

and does not have underwater view-

ing. The pool holds 125,000 gallons of

water and is about 85 feet long; the

beach area is just slightly over

1,000 square feet.

The other four species of animals

that occupy exhibits in Beaver Valley

include a captive-born pair of otters,

male and female; a pair of adult timber

wolves; a bush dog from the Zoo’s

Conservation Research Center at Front

Royal, Virginia; and a pair of beavers,

a gift to the Zoo from the Canadian

government.

All of these species were quarantined

before they were moved into their new

homes and allowed to adapt to them.

Quarantine is a usual zoo procedure

and typically lasts 30 days after anew

animal arrives. It ensures that the

animal will have a healthy beginning

in its new environment.

The openness of the exhibits at

Beaver Valley has also required an

initial period of continuous observation

to make sure that we haven't missed

any places where animals might escape.

Before we put the animals in the ex-

hibits, we made numerous inspections

of the exhibits for potential escape

routes. Still not wanting to take any

chances, we arranged, for the animals’

first few days in their new homes, to

have FONZ volunteers watch the

animals—a “fail-safe” procedure.

Some of the special highlights of

the wolf, beaver, and otter exhibits

include a large yard for the wolves, an

artificial beaver lodge with a viewing

window, an underwater viewing

window in the otter exhibit, and

streams running into the pools in both

the beaver and otter exhibits. We hope

that our attempts to make the exhibits

more natural and pleasant for the

animals will also make them attractive

and informative for zoogoers.

Most of the animals in Beaver

Valley are not yet fully mature. As

soon as they are, we will attempt to

breed them. To the extent feasible,

we hope eventually to keep the ex-

hibits at Beaver Valley filled with mix-

tures of adults, immature animals, and

the current year’s young.

Because of my background in the

biology of pinnipeds (seals and sea

lions), I was hired to oversee the opera-

tions and programs. Kayce Cover, an

experienced marine mammal trainer,

is keeper leader. Pat Larkin, Lisa

Stevens, and Lisa Burton are the

three keepers.

All of us in Beaver Valley —keepers

and engineers alike—have learned how

to use scuba gear, and eventually will

be certified divers. This will allow us

to clean the large pools without having

to empty them. Inevitably, there will

be times when potentially damaging

débris will be thrown into the pools:

there are many recorded instances of

marine mammals having died from

swallowing such items as coins, plastic

bags, keys, etc. Though we hope not

to encounter such serious problems,

we will, as divers, be able to put on our

gear and retrieve objects in the pools

before they can hurt the animals.

The keepers are also learning to train

the seals and sea lions. For many

people, “training” brings to mind the

shows done by such large oceanariums

as SeaWorld; but entertaining the

public is not the only reason to train

marine mammals.

You must remember that the seals

and sea lions at the Zoo are wild

animals. It could be quite difficult to

get an untrained animal out of its pool

Seals and sea lions are taught to touch

their noses to a trainer's fist in a pro-

cess called ‘‘targeting.”’ Targeting is a

fundamental part of the pinniped train-

ing program.

if it chose not to oblige; and the fact

that the seals’ and sea lions’ “cages”

are water-filled imposes unique con-

straints on the animals’ management

and handling. Further, an animal could

become traumatized if it had to be

restrained physically each time a

veterinarian needed to examine it.

By applying some of the basic prin-

ciples of operant conditioning—a

process derived from the psychological

school of behaviorism—one can train

the animals to come out of their pool

(or go into it) on command. They can

also be taught to lie still while someone

checks them over or takes a

blood sample.

(Ed. note: Emily Rudin's articl

stage with the Seals and Sea Lions,” in this

issue of ZooGoer, contains a fascinating

discussion of both the diving training and

of the animals’ training. )

The only other project planned for

Beaver Valley’s near future is the be-

‘ginning of a research program. This

will, however, have to await the estab-

lishment of a routine in the exhibits’

general operation. :

It takes a long time for a large, com-

plex exhibit like Beaver Valley to be

completed. Now that Beaver Valley

is a reality, all of us here are excited

and hopeful—and anxious to share

with zoogoers our pleasure in the

unique and fascinating animals who

are at home here. 0

Backstage with the

Seals and Sea Lions

Emily Rudin

In the holding area behind the sea

lion exhibit at Beavery Valley, water is

splashing, sea lions are barking in

hoarse coughs, flippers are slapping

on the poolside pavement. “Pool

party!” keeper Patricia Larkin jokes.

Sure enough, the lively activity of the

sociable sea lions does remind you of a

summer swim in someone’s back yard.

It is four o’clock in the afternoon:

feeding time. Keeper Lisa Stevens is

tossing large pieces of sea trout froma

pail into the pool. The sea lions glide

and dive for the fish in seemingly

effortless motion. A new fish hits the

water. Suddenly two dark forms

collide and battle for it—one wins.

“That's Rusty,” explains Kayce Cover,

keeper leader at Beaver Valley. “He’s

half as big as Norman, so he has to

work twice as hard to compete with

him.” She adds that she can’t always

tell the sea lions apart by their appear-

ance; often it’s by their behavior.

“Pearl over there, for example, is very

shy,” she remarks, pointing to a light

brown, smallish female sitting quietly

on the sidelines. Pearl fits Kayce’s

description exactly.

EMILY RUDIN has been a writer-editor with the Zoo

for four years. This article reflects months of research

she did on Beaver Valley for, among other uses, its

exhibit materials.

Another sea lion slides through the

water and places its muzzle against Lisa

Stevens’ fist. “Good boy!” she tells

him. She reaches into the pail and re-

wards him with a fish. This “good

boy!” and reward happen often.

They're one component of a training

routine in which the sea lions are learn-

ing to “target” their noses to the

keepers’ fists.

The Zoo is training these animals for

several reasons: to let them get to know

the keepers; for maintenance and con-

trol, i.e., for such needs as getting the

sea lions in and out of their holding

area, having them hold still when blood

samples are taken, and hand-feeding

them; for eventual demonstrations

for the public; and to help occupy the

animals’ time and energy.

Next door, the grey seals are also

being trained, for much the same

reasons. Although they had once been

trained by the Navy in California,

their routines had entirely different

purposes. Moreover, the Zoo’s staff

still needs to develop a rapport with

these seals.

Training is mainly the keepers’ re-

sponsibility, and the procedures take

time and patience. While training is

an integral part of the sea lions’ and

seals’ maintenance, it is not absolutely

necessary. Thus, with the Valley in

full operation, training is a special

project for keepers to pursue in their

spare time. Daryl Boness, curator of

aquatic mammals, says that “the

keepers are enthusiastic about the

training, so they're doing as efficient a

job as possible in order to have some

extra time left over for special projects

like this.”

If you attended one of these training

sessions, your ears would ring—a

whistle is blown frequently. This is

the main communicator, the positive

reinforcer; it signals a reward for

the desired behavior,

The technique, used for polar bears,

seals, and sea lions alike, is called

operant conditioning and goes like this:

when you catch the animal doing the

right thing, you blow the whistle at

just the right moment to show the

animal what you're rewarding. You

usually follow the whistle with a piece

of food, but food is the positive link,

not the reward itself. The timing of

the whistle is the most important com-

municator —and, as the keepers will

readily tell you, you've got to have a

quick response!

Before the daily program of training

the animals began, keepers learned its

mechanics by practicing training each

other —without using words. (This is

California sea lions play follow-the-

leader: if one goes down to the under-

water viewing window, the others follow;

if one jumps onto the island to sun

itself, the others all do the same.

Rusty, a young male, is the most curious

of the Zoo’s seven sea lions. Because

he is smaller than Norman, the other

male, he must be twice as bold and work

twice as hard in order to compete.

hard—try it yourself!) From this ex-

perience keepers learned to be percep-

tive about the animals’ view of what

keepers were doing and what was

wanted. Keeper Lisa Burton concedes

that “I would almost give the animals

credit for catching on more quickly

than we do.”

The polar bears are being trained at

Beaver Valley too, for a few minutes

a day. This work will allow keepers

to control the bears’ entrances and

exits to and from their dens. Just as

important, it will encourage the bears’

use of their entire enclosure and break

up stereotyped behaviors by providing

new outlets for their energy as well as

lots of human contact.

In training these animals—as well

as in caring for them—the keepers

have been working at building trust

and a personal bond with them. But the

keepers have come to realize that these

are very complex animals, with indivi-

dual personalities and temperaments.

Keeping them comfortable and

healthy requires all the skill and intui-

tion a keeper can muster. “They’re

not so simple as everyone thinks,”

Kayce says.

Public demonstrations will be given

frequently this summer. According

to Kayce, who is in charge of them,

four basic themes are proposed. First,

a presentation on training in the Zoo

will encourage audience participation:

a visitor will be trained just as the

animals are. A second theme is natural

behavior and adaptation among pinni-

peds. Third is the animals’ working

relationship with humans; and last

is a comparison of seals and sea lions.

These demonstrations should prove

highly informative and entertaining

for the visitor to Beaver Valley.

Long before Beaver Valley’s official

opening, Zoo staff members were

monitoring its operations closely on

an experimental basis and modifying

certain aspects of the operations as

needed. One of the most important of

these is the water system. Basically a

closed, recirculating series of falls and

pools, the water supply and the way it

works are of vital concern to both the

animals and those who must main-

tain them.

“If something goes wrong with our

end, it’s almost like having an animal’s

life in your hands,” says Harold Heist,

one of the engineers assigned to the

boiler room at Beaver Valley. “Being

an engineer in the boiler room is even

exciting at times. You learn something

about the animals. It’s certainly more

than most engineers might get

to experience.”

Part of Harold's responsibilities is

the tremendous underground pump

system that swishes around the thou-

sands of gallons of water needed not

only for the seals and sea lions, but also

for the beavers and otters. Besides

keeping an eye on the mechanical

systems, he must backwash the filters.

This means flushing the organic debris

that has accumulated in the pools into

the sewers and cleaning the strainers.

This is done about every week to nine

days, whenever a 15-pound pressure

differential is reached between the

filter head and the outflow filter.

Backwashing is essential to the safe

maintenance of the system and for

the animals’ health; an accumulation

of detritus can ruin the filter and,

ultimately, burn out the machinery

entirely. In addition, water that’s dirty

or full of debris is not only unhealthful

for the animals, but could cause them

undesirable stress as well. When filters

are backwashed, some water is lost

with the organic debris, and the pool

must be filled back up; “topping off”

the pools is another of Harold’s duties.

If keeping the water flowing

properly is one concern, keeping it free

of bacteria is another, related concern.

Chemical control of the water is a

tricky new art that is taking time and

experimentation to master. The Zoo

has been using chlorine to disinfect

the water, but a few problems have

resulted because of chlorine’s ten-

dency to form toxic compounds,

known as chloramines, with nitrogen.

(Nitrogen enters the water through the

animals’ urine and feces.)

Amid the whoosh and whir of

pipes and pumps, needles on sensitive

analyzers in the pump room measure

the free chlorine levels. This is done

through electrodes that work on the

oxidation-reduction principle. In addi-

tion to this machine, “DPD” tablets

(diethyl-p-phenylenediamine, an

organic reagent) independently test

the combined and dissociated chlorine

ions. (The analyzer readings ought to

correspond with the DPD readings—

but for some reason, they don't. Staff

members are studying this problem to

find out why and see what adjustments

can be made.)

Two separate pH meters monitor

the acidity of the water; the dissocia-

tion of chlorine ions is pH-dependent.

At a pH of 7.0, chlorine dissociation is

low, and the water is more thoroughly

disinfected. This pH level, however, is

not considered good for seals and sea

lions. Thus, the Zoo maintains its

water’s pH level at aslightly alkaline

7.5, which is better for the animals,

though less thoroughly germ-free.

Other ways to disinfect the water

without producing toxic residues exist

and are being investigated. Dissatis-

faction with the use of chlorine may

prompt the Zoo’s staff to consider

using such alternative disinfectants as

ozone or ultraviolet light.

People sometimes wonder whether

there is salt water in the pools. No,

it’s plain, fresh water. There is some

question as to whether fresh water

might cause skin and eye problems; but

these also occur in salt water. No one

has, as yet, done adequate research into

the interesting question of whether

salinity affects the incidence of skin

and eye disorders.

Meanwhile, Kayce keeps a daily

chart on the condition of the seals’

and sea lions’ eyes. “Esther’s right eye is

about a’2,’” Lisa Stevens reports. “It’s

pretty cloudy.” Kayce draws a pair of

elliptical eyes in her notebook, marks

a “2” in the right one, and next to it

writes “Esther.” A “1” indicates a

slight film on the eye; “2” means

cloudy; “3” signals a hard, white spot,

perhaps an ulcer—Kayce also marks its

Keeper Lisa Stevens confers with a Zoo

engineer about the workings of the pump

room. A vast underwater network of

location in her diagram. From the

charts, curator Daryl Boness can decide

whether veterinary consultation or

treatment is needed.

“Total maintenance” is Beaver

Valley’s exciting new concept; the idea

is to ensure better water control and

the smooth daily operation of the

whole exhibit. To this end, everyone

working at Beaver Valley is specially

trained in overlapping areas of tech-

nical expertise. The animal staff mem-

bers know how to backwash the filters;

the engineers understand exhibit

maintenance. In an emergency, the Zoo

can rely on a combination of any of

these people to keep the facilities

running properly, without having to

pipes analyzes, filters, and recirculates

the 632,000 gallons of water needed for

all the Beaver Valley pools.

Sea lion demonstrations that focus on

feeding and training techniques will

happen regularly in Beaver Valley. From

contract outside assistance.

The two engineers, in fact, are learn-

ing to scuba-dive right along with the

animal staff. This will enable them to

keep the pools clean without the costly

dumping of water each time foreign

objects enter the pools.

left, keepers Lisa Burton, Pat Larkin,

Kayce Cover, and Lisa Stevens.

‘In taking these lessons and diving

underwater,” Daryl reflects, “you get

a feeling for what it would be like to

be a seal or a sea lion.” These animals

are naturally adapted for diving under-

water. They can conserve oxygen, and

thus stay down, much longer than we

humans can. They can slow the action

of their hearts, thereby altering their

blood flow: a collapsible trachea and rib

cage reduce the air space inside their

thoracic cavity.

Humans, on the other hand, have a

cavity that can’t collapse; as we go

underwater, the pressure increases

and squeezes our lungs, causing great

discomfort. Humans must learn to

equalize the pressure in their ears and

to control their breathing while they

are under water; pinnipeds do it

naturally. Comments keeper Lisa

Burton: “What's going to take us eight

weeks of sweating hassle to learn,

they're born with. Instead of having

their adaptations, we have to use artifi-

cial means—equipment, knowledge,

memorization, and practice. After all

this,” she adds, “you develop a tremen-

dous respect for the oxygen you

breathe every day.”

Learning to dive also has its

dangers—for humans, that is. “Even in

a pool with a maximum depth of ten

feet,” says Daryl, “you must still

observe the rules and regulations of

diving. They are the same in a pool as

in open water. You can get the ‘bends’

or embolisms even in a pool this

shallow. You must know what you're

doing.”

The “bends” are a well-documented

syndrome. Nitrogen, a gas, dissolves

into the blood at certain pressures. If

a diver resurfaces too fast, the nitrogen

will form bubbles in his or her joints.

This hurts—a lot. It can also cripple.

Similarly, if the diver doesn’t let out air

properly while submerged, oxygen

bubbles—embolisms—form in the

blood. These can kill.

Other perils include hypoxemia,

when a person blacks out because of

lowered levels of oxygen in the blood,

and the common cold, a very serious

hazard in skin diving. An earache,

stuffed-up sinuses, a runny nose, or

other cold symptoms make it next to

impossible for the diver to equalize

pressure between the water and her

or his body.

To protect against cold, the diving

class wears “dry suits” when the water

is cool (30°to 50°F.). These suits are

watertight; a layer of air insulates the

diver against the water. When the

water is warmer (50° to 70°F.), the class

wears “wet suits.” With wet suits, the

water comes in under the suit against

the skin, and the diver’s body warms

it up. The suit, in turn, insulates this

inner layer of warm water against the

colder water outside. Masks, tanks,

snorkels, and flippers complete the

scuba diver’s outfit. (“Scuba” is an

acronym for “self-contained under-

water breathing apparatus.”) How

much easier to be a pinniped!

A pinniped’s grocery list at the Zoo

is blessedly simple as well: one hundred

percent fish! But if you think you've

seen one fish, so to speak, you haven't

seen them all. Every fish that arrives

at the Zoo must be inspected care-

fully. The relatively fatty fish—mainly

sea trout, a moderate supply of smelt,

and whiting, mackerel, and butterfish

for variety —come frozen solid, in 25-

and 50-pound boxes, from a plant in

Baltimore, 40 miles away. This fish has

been frozen either at the plant or

previously on the fishing boat. Every

specimen must be thawed to be in-

spected. If it has been thawed and re-

frozen, the inspection will discover it;

refreezing contaminates fish, and the

keepers must get rid of it. “Since the

only thing these animals eat is fish, we

just can’t feed them bad fish,” Daryl

explains. “With freezing and thawing,

fish deteriorates even faster than meat

does. Rather than take the chance, we

throw it out.” Nor are leftover fish

ever on the menu—they’re thrown

away at the end of the day.

The animals’ piscine delicacies are

safeguarded in blast freezers at very

cold temperatures of -20° to -30°., for

no longer than three months. To limit

bacterial growth, keepers thaw the fish

in water, then cover them with ice to

Seahunt it’s not; but scuba diving allows

keepers and engineers to clean the

pinnipeds’ pools without having to

prevent dehydration and put them in

the refrigerator.

What gold-star qualities must a

frozen fish from Baltimore display be-

fore it can finally reach the waiting seal

or sea lion at Beaver Valley? Each

morning keepers examine the fish and

check for bright, bulging eyes (sunken

ones are not acceptable); blood in the

vessels of the eyes; reddish gills (not

whitish); moist skin; and no odor when

the fish is cut. The skin is also an im-

portant indicator. If it is punctured or

torn, bacteria have already con-

taminated the fish’s insides, so any fish

drain them. Draining both pools would

require disposing of 575,000 gallons of

water.

This sea lion is watching the approach

of its lunch. Sea lions eat an average of

six pounds of fish a day and are very

with split skin is immediately thrown

out. The fish’s composition must also

have the right proportions of protein,

fat, and water. A generous amount of

fat in the diet helps the seal or sea lion

to maintain a healthy layer of blubber.

The water content in fish is important,

because the only way these animals

can “drink” water is from the fish

they eat.

Once the fish passes these rigorous

tests, it is either given to the seal or

sea lion as a reward in training or pre-

sented at mealtimes. Feeding takes

place once or twice a day, depending

conservative about the kinds or cuts of

fish they will accept.

on the length of that day’s training ses-

sion, the animal's activity level, and

the temperature.

Seals each consume an average of 15

to 25 pounds of fish per day. A sea

lion eats an average of six pounds of

fish daily —about three pounds if the

weather is warm and up to nine or ten

pounds if it’s cold. “Many times,” says

Kayce, “sea lions have to learn to

accept new kinds or cuts of fish after

having gotten used to other types—

they’re very conservative!” Many of

the fish are fed to the seals and sea

lions whole, especially the smaller

smelt; the rest are cut into bite-

sized chunks.

Since pinnipeds are not picky eaters,

Zoo people have to be picky for them.

Watching a seal or sea lion grab a

tossed fish and chomp it down in mere

seconds will quickly convince you of

the ultimate value of the Zoo’s

“Cordon Bleu” fish-selection process.

The Zoo’s seals and sea lions are

also treated to daily diet supplements.

Salt tablets are added to their fish. One

hundred milligrams of vitamin B, are

another extra. The enzyme thiaminase

breaks down when fish are frozen.

This leads to a thiamine deficiency

if B, supplements are not added. Lastly,

multiple vitamins provide added in-

surance against nutritional problems.

To improve their knowledge of the

complex science of pinniped-keeping,

the keepers are working on several

research projects. Pat Larkin, who is

responsible for the beaver and otter

exhibits, is also gathering information

on marine-mammal conservation.

Lisa Burton, the polar bear trainer, is

studying the chemical control of water.

Lisa Stevens is a “pinniped librarian”:

she is organizing a literature survey of

various behaviors of seals and sea

lions. With this range of information,

the keepers hope to improve keeping

techniques, adapt the exhibits more

closely to the animals’ needs, and share

some of these concepts in the animal

demonstrations for the public.

You, the visitor, have only to watcha

seal or sea lion in Beaver Valley —

resting on its beach, disappearing nose-

first into the water, or gliding grace-

fully in its pool—to see the results of

the behind-the-scenes care and effort

that the Zoo staff invests daily in these

delightful, challenging animals’ health

and comfort. fa

Beaver Valley Who’s Who

A Thumbnail Guide to Each Species

Mary W. Matthews

Canadian beaver

Castor canadensis

North America

The beaver is a rodent—in fact, the

second largest rodent there is (the

largest is the capybara). It should not,

however, be confused with its cousins

the domestic pests, rats and mice.

Up to three and a half feet long, one

foot of which is its broad, scaly tail,

the beaver is renowned for the quality

that makes household pests of its

cousins: chewing. The bark of trees

makes up the principal part of the

beaver’s diet, particularly the bark of

the aspen and willow. The denuded

tree trunks can then be chewed

through and the tree toppled and

used for dam-building.

It is, of course, the beaver’s dams

for which this rodent is most memor-

able. The dams fill the beavers’ needs

and do their job so well they have been

called textbook examples of perfect

functional engineering.

Beavers live on and near fresh water,

preferably running water. They

occasionally make their homes in a

burrow on a riverbank. They ap-

parently prefer, however, to build

their own beaver pond by damming a

MARY W. MATTHEWS is the editor of

ZooGoer.

In its new enclosure for only five

minutes and this beaver is already in-

river or stream until it backs up. The

dam is built of two- to six-foot-long

sticks and mortared with mud. It

generally reaches two feet or so above

the water line, and is conical.

The beavers build the dam first.

They then make their home, called a

beaver lodge, by chewing into the dam.

Solely by chewing, they excavate a

large central chamber above the water

vestigating the dam keepers began for it.

line and several underwater emergency

exits. The main chamber also has a

vertical chimney for ventilation.

The beavers then build secondary

dams upstream and downstream from

their lodge, sometimes for little ap-

parent reason other than to be building.

The beaver’s dam is comparable to

anything a human could design—and

in fact may be kept in better repair!

None of this, however, should lead

to any deductions about the beaver’s

intelligence. The beaver has long been

thought to be more intelligent than

other rodents because of its dam-

building marvels. Today, however,

most naturalists believe that its suc-

cesses are based on a combination of

instinct and trial-and-error. In fact, it

is not unusual to come across a beaver

crushed by a tree it had just felled—no

great argument for its powers of

reasoning.

Beavers mate for life. Their breeding

season is January and February. After

a gestation of 65-128 days, two to

eight kits are born between April and

June. At birth the kits are furry; their

eyes are open and they are well

developed. They stay with their

parents for two years before striking

out on their own.

While they are in the water or their

lodge, beavers are not alluring prey.

On land, though, great interest in

beavers is taken by wolverines, lynxes,

coyotes, wolves, bobcats, pumas,

bears—and of course, humans. People

have long prized beaver meat and fur.

The Hudson Bay Trading Company

sold nearly 3,000,000 beaver pelts

over a 20-year period in the 19th

century. Moreover, one of the beaver’s

glandular secretions, castoreum, was

valued for centuries as a cure-all —it

contains salicylic acid, just as

aspirin does.

People have begun to realize,

though, that beavers play a very im-

The otter’s streamlined figure and lively

nature make it a fine acrobat both in

and out of the water.

portant part in the conservation of

water and the regulation of its flow,

holding back water during floods, in-

creasing the flow during droughts, and

distributing it through the soil. Where

once beavers were enthusiastically ex-

terminated, they are now being rein-

troduced. When alarmed, the beaver

signals by slapping the water with its

powerful tail. The resulting thunder-

clap can be heard up to half a mile

away. It seems someone has

been listening.

Canadian otter

Aonyx cinerea

North America

The otter is one of the most play-

ful of Beaver Valley’s new inhabitants.

It is certainly, with the exception of the

polar bear, the most solitary. Sinuous

and graceful, the otter’s reputation as

elusive, mischievous, intelligent, and

fun-loving may be anthropomorphic,

but it is not totally undeserved.

The otter’s body is four to five and

a half feet long, including its tail. Its

legs are short. Its fur is of two sorts: a

silky, fawn-colored underfur, which is

waterproof, and an outer layer of

bristly, dark brown guard hairs. It has a

whiskered, snub-nosed face with

bright, liquid dark eyes. It has five

toes on each foot; its hind feet are

webbed, like the beaver’s, and its fore-

feet are small and can be used to mani-

pulate and carry. The otter lives on

fish, crayfish, and fresh-water mussels,

though it will also eat birds, small

mammals, and frogs.

The otter is a very fast swimmer with.

a smooth, undulating style. It man-

euvers skillfully in the water, easily

performing the aquatic equivalent of

turning on a dime—all the while flick-

ing its tail to add to its momentum. _

Otters look like sea serpents when they

swim on the surface, with only their

head, humped back, and tail tip curving

above the water line. (In fact, the

“monsters” of Loch Arkaig and Loch

Morar in Scotland are thought to be

otters or groups of otters, as is the

“ogo-pogo” of Canada.) Under water

the otter holds its forelegs against its

flanks, and its hind legs move so

rapidly they almost blur.

Otters mate in the water at any

time of year, though spring is the peak

breeding season. After 61 days, two or

three cubs are born, blind and toothless

but covered with silky hair. They stay

in their nest for eight weeks, and with

their mother until she mates again.

Like baby birds, otter pups must be

pushed into their first experiences out-

side the nest. Once in the water how-

ever, they swim as naturally and grace-.

fully as their parents do.

Otters are nomads, seldom staying

long in one place. They travel over

land with much the same bounding

motion they use in water and have

been known to travel 16 miles over-

land in one night. Their favorite trick

when confronted with a downhill

slope is one most people have heard

about: they take a couple of bounds

and then slide on their bellies down

the slope. On a steep, muddy, or

snowy hill, this motion looks like to-

boganning, and the otter can slide

40 to 50 feet.

Bush dog

Speothos venaticus

South America

Distantly related to the domestic

dog, the bush dog actually looks like

Although bush dogs have roamed South

America for a million years, their habits

a cross between a heavy dachshund

and a red fox. It stands up to 15 inches

at the shoulder; its coat is long and

reddish-brown, and its tail is brush-

like. Both tail and muzzle are short.

Little is known about this elusive

animal. It is believed to be a very old

species. Bush dog remains have been

found with Pleistocene-era deposits in

Brazil. The bush dog is bold and deter-

mined, and dislikes confinement. But

when it is tamed, the bush dog behaves

very like a domestic dog —it particular-

ly enjoys the game of “fetch.” A skill-

ful and enthusiastic swimmer and

diver, the bush dog will not only fetch

a stick tossed into water for it; it will

also retrieve stones tossed into ponds!

The bush dog roams woodlands and

grassy plains. It probably eats the usual

canine diet of flesh and fruit. It hunts

in the wild remain mysterious.

in packs, like the wolf, and can be

very savage.

The bush dog’s voice is remarkable.

It produces a range of clicking,

whistling, and chirping noises, as well

as piercing squeals and cries; its barks

can resemble bird calls.

The National Zoo has had bush dogs

under study at its Conservation and

Research Center at Front Royal,

Virginia, for about three and a half

years. Still, virtually nothing is known

of the bush dog’s breeding habits in

the wild—they are hypothesized to be

typically canine. One of the Zoo’s

females recently had her second litter;

there were six puppies, four of which

survived. Average litters in captivity

appear to produce four to five pups.

Timber wolf

Canis lupus

Northern Hemisphere

(A) UNWANTED: Timber wolf,

a.k.a. grey wolf. Public enemy number

one since end of last Ice Age. Body 42-

54 inches long, plus 1114-to 22-inch tail.

Height at shoulders up to 38 inches.

Weight 60-150 pounds. Ruthless and

ferocious carnivore. Symbol of savagery

and courage. Reputation of complete evil

(viz., werewolves), Character refer-

ences: Little Red Riding Hood; The Three

Little Pigs; Peter (and the—); Lon

Chaney.

(B) WANTED: Timber wolf (see above

physical description). Known to be lov-

ing and affectionate family member.

Thought to be direct ancestor of domestic

dog. When raised in captivity, usually as

tame and docile as domestic dog. Despite

persecution, thought to be in awe of

human beings. Plays important role in

natural selection. Character references:

Romulus, Remus, Beowulf, Apollo

Lykaos, Mowgli, “wolf-boy” of Luck-

now, India, “wolf-girl” of Rangipur,

India, “the wild child” of France, etc.

Which description of the wolf is _ | _

more accurate? Both are accurate! _

The timber wolf has had by far the

worst public relations of any animal

that has ever interacted with homo

sapiens —and for most of the last 10,000

or so years, with fairly good cause.

When humans were primarily

nomadic hunters, living from kill to

Wolfish; lupine; wolf whistle; wolf pack; “Werewolves of London.” It’s a dog’s

wolf down your food; keep the wolf life for the wolf!

42 from the door; wolf in sheep’s clothing;

kill—as the wolf does—they lived in

reasonable amity with wolves, even

taming a few to live in partnership

with them and become the ancestors

of “man’s best friend.” It was only

with the advent of agriculture and the

development of domestic livestock

that the ancestor of “man’s best friend”

suddenly became public enemy

number one.

Wolves prefer as their prey the

(relatively) defenseless—the old, the

disabled, the sick, the young. Thus,

wolves play a very important role in

the natural selection of wild animals.

But the whole point in breeding

domestic livestock is to breed out the

very qualities that nature breeds for:

aggressiveness, speed, unfriendliness,

etc. A cow, for example, is much easier

prey than a buffalo; a pig is easier prey

than a wild boar. The wolf's bad repu-

tation undoubtedly began with

humans’ violent objections to having

their livestock killed. Because the wolf

is intelligent, cunning, and swift, no

trap or wile humans have thought of

has been able to stop it. The wolf is an

endangered species today only because

human encroachment is steadily de-

priving it of its habitat.

The wolf is undoubtedly both savage

and courageous. Packs of wolves—

both male and female—working to-

gether can bring down an animal many

times the wolf's size, such as a moose

or an elk. The wolf is highly intelligent

and has great powers of endurance. A

wolf can run at 22 to 24 miles per heur

for hours at a time—all night,

if necessary.

Male seals stake out a piece of beach

every spring and defend it against all

comers. Keepers theorize that this male’s

acrobatics are a warning type of

behavior.

On the other hand, wolves mate

for life, and run in family packs of

three to 24 individuals. They have

been proven to be very affectionate

(at least, within the family). Wolves

breed between January and March, and

an average of seven cubs is born after

a gestation period of 60 to 63 days.

The cubs’ eyes open five to nine days

after birth. Females are mature at two

years of age, and males at three. Both

parents teach the young how to hunt.

Like other dogs, wolves will eat vir-

tually anything, though their diet in

the wild is primarily mice, rabbits,

and squirrels.

Because of the traditional enmity

between humans and wolves, the

wolf’s numbers are diminishing rapid-

ly. The enmity should be dropped—

wolves attack people only when rabid

or on the brink of starvation, and

domestic livestock only when food in

the wild runs short.

In fact, of the two, homo sapiens is by

far the more ruthless, savage, and

bloodthirsty predator. The wolf is

just a hard-working canine trying to

make its way in a hostile and rapidly

shrinking world.

Grey seal

Halichoerus gryphus

North Atlantic and Arctic

Three-fourths of the world’s grey

seals are found on the shores of Great

Britain, where they rank as the largest

British wild mammal. Adult male grey

seals are up to nine and a half feet long

and weigh up to 600 pounds; adult

females are smaller, reaching only

seven feet in length and 550 pounds

in weight.

Grey seals come in many colors be-

tween black and silver, depending

on their age, sex, and state of moult.

Seal pups are born covered with white

hair. Three weeks later, the “white-

Swift and graceful in the water, the

grey seal propels itself on land with an

coat” is shed, to be replaced by the

“bluecoat” prized by furriers. This

adult coat is moulted annually shortly

before the breeding season starts.

The males’ dark fur is marked with

irregular blotches of a paler grey than

the background color; on females, the

markings are dark grey spots against a

silvery background. Thus the sex of a

grey seal is often easily determined—

provided the difference between back-

ground and blotch is clear!

Grey seals breed at any time of year.

The peak seasons are September to

December in Britain and spring in the

western part of the Atlantic. Adult

males and females come together then

on breeding islands, with the older seal

ungainly hunching motion.

bulls forcing the younger bulls away

from the territories they have staked

out for themselves. The pups are born

quickly and weigh 30 pounds at birth.

They convert their mother’s rich milk

to blubber at an amazing rate: after

three weeks, they weigh 90 pounds.

At this time they are weaned and

abandoned. They may starve before

they learn to feed if they have not

accumulated enough blubber.

A favorite for sealskin coats, oil for

lamps, and food (once a luxury item,

seal meat is now largely used for dog

food), and in great disfavor because of

its predilection for stealing salmon

straight from fishing nets, the grey

seal at the turn of the 20th century was

near extinction. The 1914 and 1932

Grey Seal Protection Acts in Britain

saved them, and grey seal populations

today are healthy in number.

The Scottish legend of the Silkie—

the woman who has been transformed

into a seal, or possibly the seal-

woman—probably arose from the

seals’ habit of abandoning their pups

on weaning. Silkies were supposed to

be like Sirens, their pathetic cries luring

human men to their doom. But the

Silkies’ haunting calls were probably

in reality those of hungry grey seal

pups, answered by the howls of their

mothers, both echoing eerily off the

rocks and cliffs of their lonely

breeding beach.

California sea lion

Zalophus californianus

Coastal California and Mexico,

the Galapagos Islands,

the islands off Japan

Seals and sea lions are often con-

fused. For one thing, all species of sea

lions resemble one species of seal, the

fur seal. For another, California sea

lions, easily tamed and easily trained,

are favorites in circuses—and are called

“performing seals,” thus adding to

the confusion.

California sea lions are expert

swimmers and fishers. The smallest

of the sea lion species, they reach

lengths of only six feet (female) to

seven feet (male), and weights of only

400-500 pounds. When wet, their fur

seems almost black; dry, it is a deep

chocolate brown. The males do not

have the mane-like ruff around their

necks and shoulders that the males

of other sea lion species do.

California sea lions are not popular

with commercial fisheries, which tend

to blame them for damages to fish and

equipment alike. Unlike grey seals,

California sea lions prefer squid to

salmon—but, like the seals, they'll eat

almost anything they can get so long

as it is fish.

Gregarious, inquisitive, and intelli-

gent, California sea lions are quite tame

even in the wild. Except when defend-

ing their territory or their pups, they

will allow humans to come close.

and it does not know how to do this

instinctively; it must be taught. As the

keepers at Beaver Valley will attest,

sea lions learn quickly and eagerly. . .

and when they have learned a task

well, they are almost as pleased about

it as their trainers are. ‘e

The sea lion’s most famous circus

trick is balancing a ball on its nose—

Extraordinarily graceful in water,

the California sea lion is naturally play-

ful, and has been seen chasing its own

air bubbles as they rise. On land it

moves by bounding on its flippers.

On smooth ground it can move faster

than a person can walk. Any falls are

absorbed by the front flippers and by

ribs made from cartilage instead

of bone.

Like grey seals, the California sea

lion comes ashore once a year at breed-

ing time. The old bulls come first,

staking out their own beaches and

driving young bulls away. Two to

three weeks later, when the dust has

settled, the already-pregnant cows

follow the bulls, and settle into harems

of 10 to 20 cows per bull.

A day later, the pups are born; they

are suckled for up to a year. A few

days after the pups are born, the cows

mate with the bulls on whose beaches

they gave birth; they then return to

the sea to feed. The pups learn to swim

early. Female sea lions are mature be-

tween three and four years of age, and

mate immediately; the males are

mature between four and five, but may

not mate until they are large enough,

strong enough, and fierce enough to

stake out their own beach territories —

usually when they are seven to nine

years old.

Keeper leader Kayce Cover greets two of

her pinniped charges. ‘Sea lions are

more complex animals than people

think,’’ she says.

NEWS

Richard Perry, Bears

(NY: Arco Publishing Company),

1970

Bears is a book of general knowledge

that presents a large amount of infor-

mation in a non-technical manner.

Frequent excerpts from the journals

of nineteenth-century explorers en-

hance the book’s easy-reading

approach.

The author covers all the various

types of bears, what they have in com-

mon and where they differ, along with

all the general and important aspects

of their lives: habitat, diet, repro-

duction, and interactions with humans.

The chapters “In Winter Dens” and

“Anti-Social and Family Life” are of

special value, as are the fascinating

and occasionally humorous facts

scattered through the beautifully

illustrated text.

Ogden Tanner, Beavers and Other

Pond Dwellers

(NY: Time-Life), 1977

Beavers and Other Pond Dwellers is

worth reading if for no other reason

than the tremendous amount of en-

thusiasm it generates in the reader.

The book deals not only with beavers,

but also with the animals that live in

and near the beavers’ pond environ-

ment. It illustrates the entire ecosystem

of the pond—described as “a simmer-

ing animal-vegetable soup” —in a way

that makes it easy for the reader to

extend it to the world in general.

The text is precisely written and

accompanied by numerous excellent

photographs; it is especially useful

for young adults in its well-organized

presentation of the interrelationships

of various pond animals.

The section on beavers has a par-

ticularly charming text; the chapter on

raccoons should be of particular in-

terest to Washington-area residents.

“Amphibians and Reptiles” has a

wonderful section on frogs.

One of the most valuable lessons a

zoo can teach is the interdependence

and interrelationships of all living

things; this book teaches it well.

Gavin Maxwell, Seals of the World

(Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co.),

1967

An excellent introduction to seals,

although some of the reading may be

rather difficult; quite a lot of specific

zoological terminology is used. The

first two chapters are especially helpful.

There is a tendency to refer to seals

and sea lions collectively as “seals”:

chapter one, “What Makes a Seal,”

makes clear the difference. Chapter

two deals with the seal in relation to

human beings, giving a clear view of

their present status and somewhat

shaky future. |

This is a fine compilation of factual

information and a revealing documen-

tation of the plight of one of our most

beautiful and intelligent mammalian

relatives.

—Frances Chiles

Barry Holstun Lopez, Of Wolves

and Men

(NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons,), 1978

“Wolf”: the very word connotes a

powerful blend of images—hunter,

hunted, mystery, legend. Of Wolves

and Men combines the author’s field

studies with documentation by scien-

tists, explorers, Indians, and Eskimos.

Superb design, striking photographs,

folk drawings, poems, and selected

quotations from primary sources

amplify and reinforce Lopez’s well-

researched and gracefully written text.

Though Lopez definitely has his

point to make about wolf conserva-

tion, he must be credited with present-

ing a balanced view of this emotionally

charged issue. It is as if he has decided

simply to give the reader a full

appreciation of what “wolf” means—

in its contemporary, historical,

scientific, and anthropological senses—

and to let the quiet eloquence of this

valuable book make its own poignant

plea for understanding and preserving

this fascinating animal.

—Emily Rudin

Like dogs, young bears playing together

engage in mock fights. Adult male bears

in the wild live half as long as females

do, possibly because of territorial battles

with other males.

BACK COVER: The sea lions’ under-

water viewing window is fascinating both

to people and pinnipeds.