LOVE TRAGEDY AT LONDON ZOO

Gisborne Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 3702, 11 December 1912, Page 7

LOVE TRAGEDY AT LONDON ZOO

DOLEFUL VISITOR FROM THE SOUDAN.

Everybody .who can sufficiently petrify his Heart to take pleasure in the incarceration-of wild beasts in cages, will rejoice to. learn that the Zoo has had a record season, and that everything is very well with the animals there—with one exception. There is something uncannily wrong •with the Balaeniceps rex. The Bah rex possesses the distinction of being the only example of its kind in Europe. Perhaps that is. the reason why there is something wrong with it, but Dr. Chalmers Mitchell (who certainly ought to know) is not sure. In plain, common English, the Balaeniceps rex is the Shoebill, or- whale-headed heron, with its home and family and friends in the sorrowful and sandy Soudan. He is called Bill Boot for short by liis keeper and life friends at Regent's Park. WHY BILL LEFT HOME. Early this spring, when all the world was young and frisky, Bill wandered too far from the family roof-tree, met Sir Francis Wingate, the Sirdar, and was chased and captured by him after an exciting struggle, the details of which are too complicated and too unbelievable to be described in cold print. Tlie Belaenieeps rex became so f riendly with Sir Francis as to develop into a nuisance, so three months ago the Sirdar shipper him to Engalnd and gave him to the Zoo. Bill, though not exactly beautiful, was jumped l at by the keen collectors of the H.Z.S., because of his rarity and because of the extraordinary appearance of human wisdom upon his countenance, which (although shoelike) is capable of as many varieties and changes as a weather-glass at mid-summer.

WHEN BILL WENT ON STRIKE. For a time ho “did” very well on a strictly fish and vegetarian diet, exhibited many signs of acrobatic activities and pugnacious Sudo-hybern-ianisms. Then, a few .weeks ago, in the middle of dessert (whelk en casserole) an entire change overcame William He spurned the casserole with a back-kick worthy of a FirstLeague Jfcotballer. He, refused to eat any more; he stalked out of the brand new house the artificers of the R.Z.S. had so kindly erected for him, and turning his face to the . wall (which is really the hedge bordering the Albert Road) stood there ihoodily melancholy for days and hours together. The sheen has vanished from his feathers, the old Soudanic gleam has gone from his eye, and all the polish has left his proboscis. MUSIC HATH CHARMS. There is only one thing he takes any interest in, and that is the appearance on Monday afternoons (sixpenny day) of an old, old fiddler upon the kerb outside, who plays over and over again a colorable resemblance to' “Willy, we have missed you.” Then the Balaeniceps rex takes a half-turn to the N.N.W., inclines his head (which is all bill, by the way) to an attitude of- supreme attention, and looks unutterable things. Dr. Chalmers Mitchell and his talented staff have done all they possibly can for the poor bird. They have built him a specially-warmed house roomy enough for a rhinoceros, with several eminently Soudanese rsplaythings in it, and no fewer than two\ weather-glasses—a barometer and a thermometer, which is,decidedly Afri•can and sunny. ‘They have also given the despondent William a nice back garden to retire into, with a keeper to dig in it each day for fresh worms to tempt the .Balaenicepsian appetite. But all to : no avail; William is growing more dejected and more doleful everv dav. AN AFFAIR OF THE HEART. “Extraordinary —or —animal,” remarked a visitor to a friend as the two paused before the Balaenicep’s Royal Palace t'h9 other afternoon. “Amazingly human, too. Reminds me of somebody, too —ah! I’ve got it!” and he named a famous politician, whose name. it would not be fair to print. Even that had no effect upon Bill.. The good people at the. Zoo had tried almost everything to bring him round, and Dr Mitchell thinks it’s his heart rather than his stomach that is affected. It has been suggested that if the Society were to confer an ary fellowship on the old Monday afternoon fiddler, it might have some effect. The very last resource is to send n wire to the Sirdar to come home at once.