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Zoo Animals Arrive In ‘B. A.’ In Good Condition

Wild Bill Picks Fight With Buffalo Twice His Size (Through a Fence)

(No. 17 of a Series.)

By W. H. SHIPPEN, JR.,
Star Staff Correspondent.

BUENOS AIRES.—Uncle Sam’s gift snimals, at long last, have arrived safely at their destination—the local Zoo.

There’s Wild Bill, the yearling bull buffalo, whose rampages in his crate one gray morning on the Atlantic far north of here—brought him to the verge of destruction…

And the Texas red wolf, which chewed and wrenched away a wooden bar on his cage, escaping to run free on the work deck forward one early morning at sea. Only the monitor lizzard was lost—a 4-foot veteran traveler which Dr. Mann had transported to Washington from Sumatra, on the other side of the world.

The bald eagles came through in great shape—even the wild one which thrashed its wings against the cage each time a member of the crew or curious passenger stopped to peer in at it. The prairie dogs, the civet cats, the East Indian bingurang (or “bear cat”) and the Emperor geese from Alaska stood the 6,500-mile journey very well.

The Uruguay arrived here last night after dark and moved up to freight wharf this morning. Dr. Mann had arranged in advance through the consular service to expedite the passage of the animals through quarantine, customs and port authorities. Two big, horse-drawn drays awaited the crates on the wharf this morning, but some hitch developed.

Each Crate Handled Carefully.

It was not until this afternoon that the crates went over the side. In some ports an animal shipment gets tough handling—boxes are slammed about and dropped on the wharf. But today Tex Wyly, the bos’n’s mate who helped care for the animals on the way south was superintending the job. The shipment was handled gently as it came off in cargo slings.

It was dusk today before the two buffalo were turned into their paddock at the zoo. Dr. Mann was eager to see them outside their crates. For weeks he couldn’t be sure, peering in at the buffalo in their dark quarters, how they had fared.

The female emerged a bit wobbly on her pins, but Wild Bill charged out on all fours and tried to horn a buffalo bull twice his weight—it was lucky for him that a fence separated them. The newcomers will occupy their own paddock until they get better acquainted with the herd whose blood they are supposed to improve.

Shortly before the S. S. Uruguay reached Rio, Wild Bill managed, in some incredible manner, to turn completely around in a crate designed to give hime just enough room to lie down, but no extra space in which to gather force to hurt himself. He defied the laws of gravity and probability with a great clatter that brought members of the crew on deck before daylight.

A Kicking, Bucking Demon.

Then Ferdinand—as he had been called up to that time—went berserk. He became an 800-pound bucking, kicking, butting demon.

His crate began to splinter. It broke at the top and front…broke and bulged with each shock. The crate shifted aft and almost rolled over on the tilting deck.

Dr. Mann’s face was white and drawn—not with fear or anger, but with pain. “Poor buff!” he exclaimed, while the crate rocked almost on top of him, “i hope we won’t have to destroy him!” An officer was standing by with a gun.

With the aid of Tex, “Chips,” the ship’s carpenter, and various sailors, lines were passed about the crate and tied forward to hold it upright. Then the case was hauled back in place with block and tackle, reinforced with heavy planking and shored up, top and sides.
Wild Bill, having reversed himself was standing in his feed box…kicking, rather. He was in momentary peril of breaking a leg. He also was almost certain to inflict a fracture on any person reaching inside the crate to pry loose the feed box. Tex managed this somehow, with the aid of a crowbar, without hurting himself or the bull.

Didn’t Miss Any Meals.

Thereafter Bill was fed and watered through a slot designed for cleaning his crate. For days on end there was a great thundering and rattling of hooves and horns.

“I wonder,” Dr. Mann said, “if Bill, the buff would feel any better if he knew he was practically spoiling my trip.”

Through all this Wild Bill never missed any rations.

When he charged out of his irksome crate here tonight, with wounds on hocks and back nicely healing and obviously feeling his oats, Dr. mann said:
“Maybe he was just having his”

setting-up exercises on the boat! There’s nothing like it to keep you in shape on a long voyage!”

The wolf-coyote which escaped had been crated with his mate. They were separated by a partition of wire, which he gnawed through. Then the male took all the female’s rations. He was shifted at sea to a smaller crate.

The wolf went to work on this crate with his teeth one night. He shredded a board a half-inch thick and some 4 inches across, pulled it aside and squeezed out of prison. The jail-break was discovered about daylight by a sailor, who roused Dr. Mann. But let Charley, the German cook for the oilers and firemen in a galley forward, tell about it:

“That doctor Mann, heinous animals, huh? The wolf he was prowling about. Then a sailor gets a line. It’s as big as a hawser. He twirls it about his head. I say, ‘Hold on Cowboy—you go get doktur Mann, huh?’ And close those doors to the passengers’ quarters, huh?

“The doktur he just blinks and slides over toward the wolf. ‘Open the door in one of those empty crates,’ he says to a sailor. The wolf he looks sideways at he doktur. He don’t want trouble. He’s more scared than me, huh? The wolf, he sidesteps away. He sees the crate door open. He starts in, and then he tenses his muscles, huh? He’s ready to jump back, huh? The doktur just goes up and spanks him on his rear, huh? The wolf jumps in instead of out.

“Very simple, huh?”

The big monitor which went overboard died for no particular reason. A phlegmatic fellow, he had plenty of room, air and food and had made at least two previous ocean voyages—he just curled up and expired.

“The more I travel with animals,” Dr. Mann said, “the less I’m inclined to see red when a dealer shows me a price list!”

Tomorrow:; Notes on Buenos Aires.

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