Chapter VIII: Part 8

Perhaps the most interesting of the tropical beasts from the point of view which we occupy is the elephant: This animal in its relations to men is eminently peculiar, in that while it has been in an individual way long and completely subjugated, it has never been systematically reared in captivity. Owing, it may be, to the slow growth of these great beasts, as well as to the immediate manner in which they submit to their captors, it has ever been the custom to take them when adult from the wilderness. The result is that the supply of the Asiatic species, which alone is serviceable--the African form being apparently too fierce for use--is now dependent on a relatively small number of wild herds. Certain of these herds are protected by the governments of India, but it seems as if the species were already dangerously near the vanishing point--in a position where the invasion of some disease or some insect enemy might deprive the world of what is, all things considered, the most interesting of the brutes. Moreover, the failure to rear elephants in captivity has made it impossible to essay any of those experiments in breeding which have done so much to improve the utility and the beauty of most subjugated forms.

If the elephants could be reared in captivity there is little reason to doubt that with a few centuries of selection they might be made to vary in many important ways. It is evident that the form and mental quality of these creatures is as plastic as those features in the other domesticated animals have been proved to be. Moreover, the group, though it is now represented by but two recognized species, was in comparatively recent times quite rich in varieties, a fact which raises the presumption that the existing kinds are open to modification by the selective process. As the elephant is not mature until it is near thirty years old, probably not reproducing until about that age, there is little inducement for any person to undertake the process of breeding them in the selective way; if the task is ever done it will have to be accomplished by government action or by that of a society which is pledged to such tasks. If the effort to bring the elephants into a more permanent relation with man is not made and the race is allowed to perish, we may be sure that in the time to come people will gravely censure us for any such neglect of the opportunities which this world affords as would be involved in the loss of this noble brute. It is clearly our duty to see that all such resources are preserved for the inquirers of the future.

Among the other tropical mammals which, because they have not as yet proved of economic value, are on account of their size and their attractiveness to sportsmen in danger of extinction, we may note the various species of rhinoceros, the giraffe, and the several African forms which are akin to the horse. None of these forms have been turned to use, none of them appear likely to be adopted by man for the service they can do; but they are, in common with all the host which cannot be mentioned here, of great interest to the naturalists of our time. Their importance in the inquiries which are hereafter to be made by our ever expanding science of life cannot be estimated. It certainly will not be possible to overreckon it in this very practical age. This plea for the sparing of the mammalian species in no case needs to be made so strongly, and in no other instance is so well entitled to a hearing, as when it is raised for the life of the monkeys. These interesting animals because of their collateral kinship with man afford precious evidence as to the stages of intellectual development which is likely to be of exceeding value to students in that field of inquiry. There is unfortunately little chance that any of the monkeys will ever prove useful; their habits are such that they are generally troublesome neighbors; moreover, their weakness makes it easy to exterminate them. The result is that some species have probably already been destroyed, and others are in conditions where during the next century they are likely to vanish. In the animate realm it is hard to choose the forms which are to be the most important for the naturalists of the time to come, but it is certain that these students will deplore the loss of the simian life and charge us sorely if we neglect due effort for its preservation.

Although the matter before us concerns the domestication of animals, it may be well to devote a little attention to the question of the wild plants which need protection or which promise to afford unwon values. It may be said that plants in general are much less likely than animals to be disturbed by the process of bringing a country under the conditions of civilization. With rare exceptions the individuals of each species are so numerous that, like the insects, they escape by their numbers the risk of the extinction of their kinds. Moreover, the ease with which nearly all the kinds can be brought under cultivation, and the fact that they present no self-will to be dominated, makes the task of dealing with them, in a protective way, infinitely easier than in the case of animals. So far as we know, there has not been an instance in which a continental species of plant has been exterminated by man, while there are a number of the larger animals which have been swept away apparently by human agency, and there are many more which are on the verge of extinction. Therefore, so far as the plant world is concerned, we may for the present at least trust the species to their own powers to maintain them against the rude assaults of civilization. If here and there one is overrun by the wheels of our economic engines, something of value to the student is lost, but the loss does not include the element of mind which is hereafter to be the subject of so much study.

The foregoing considerations make it evident that the problem of domestication shades into the question as to the preservation of the life which is now on the earth, and this with a view to the advantage which the arts, the sciences, or general culture may obtain from the preservation of the useful, the instructive, and the beautiful things in the realm of nature from the swift destruction which our rude subjugation of the earth threatens to inflict. To deal with this problem in an adequate manner we must ask ourselves what limits are to be set to the displacement of the ancient order which is now going on. We see that wherever civilization enters, and even where its first influences are felt, the olden societies of nature are disturbed or broken up. All the nobler members of these associations, the greater mammals, many of the larger birds, and a host of the lesser forms, are expelled or destroyed. In the condition of organic life when the supremely predatory creature man rose to domination, the species were grouped in those vast organizations which were of old termed faunae and florae, but which are now better known as biological fields or provinces. In each of these hosts the several species were, as regards their external life, so balanced with their neighbors that the assemblage from the point of view of these relations might well be compared with the polities or states of man's construction. Such an organic society represents the result of a series of trials and balances which began to be made in the immeasurably remote past and have been continued through the geologic ages, each age adding something to the accord. The plants give and take from the animals; the insects are equated with the birds, and each species in every group has set up an accord with its rivals. From time to time the host has by the changes of sea and land been compelled to migrate, moving this way and that to find its fit station. In these movements species are rapidly extinguished, much as the weaker soldiers of an army perish in forced marches. Into their places new forms hasten to take their place, so that every position of advantage is filled. At a less rapid rate, but perpetually, even without the change of abode, which it is often by climatic changes compelled to make, the organic host is slowly changing in character; old kinds give way in the endless contest to new varieties which have managed to establish a better relation to the environment. Still the legions press on towards the great accomplishment of a higher and nobler life.

No one, however well he may conceive the nature and history of the organic hosts of the earth, can hope to convey to the general reader an adequate sense of their majesty or the wonderful part they have played in the history of the life which has culminated in mankind. The largest words are freighted with too little meaning, and even the metaphors drawn from human associations fail to convey a sufficient picture of these enduring organizations which have enabled living beings to meet the difficulties of their long contest with this rude world, and to win the advance they have gained. The reader will have to tax his imagination to picture, it may be, a quarter of a million species dwelling in the same field, each united with the other in the method of exchange in such a way that the withdrawal of any one form is likely in some measure to change the estate of every other. In some cases this removal of one species means the loss of the life of many and perhaps the better opportunity of other neighbors; again, the influence on remoter members of the society may be so slight as to escape detection. Yet it is doubtful if the slightest change in the population of a biologic province can be brought about without some effect upon all the members of the society. It is a vast, sensitive thing, fit to be compared with the living body where every cell lives in accord with every other of the frame.

So long as the organic hosts were in the prehuman stage the maintenance of the accord was easily and naturally attained. Species arose and perished, each in turn effecting a simple reconciliation with the others, grasping only so much room and food as was necessary for its proper support. But with the coming of man, the species which by its swiftly progressive desires has become a host in itself, a disturbing element was introduced into the old order. Man as a primitive savage falls into the natural system without greatly disturbing it; but man as a soil-tiller, in so far as he carries out his subjugative work, utterly wrecks the ancient establishments of life. To attain his object he has to banish from the soil nearly all the plants which originally belonged upon it, and in their place, with or without intention, he introduces species from other organic provinces. With the change in plant-life necessarily goes a like, or even a greater, alteration in the native animals. They are driven into the wilderness or, it may be, extirpated. The reader who would obtain an idea of these changes will do well to study the invasions of weeds or of those noxious insects which in the economy of a civilized country may be likened to weeds. These pests are in nearly all cases invaders which owe their successes to the fact that our treatment of the regions they have entered has opened vacancies in the once closed ranks of the indigenous host, into which the foreigners are free to enter. In the fresh field they are not likely to find enemies which by long training are especially fitted to cope with them, and so they run riot and contest with man the gains he has won from the ancient possessors of the land.

Of all the large questions which the consideration of the future of man's work on this planet opens to us, there is none which now appears to be more serious or, in its consequences, more far-reaching than this concerning the treatment which he is to give to the old natural order of sea and land. The very first condition of civilization is an utter spoiling of that order, so far as the land areas are concerned, in the fields of the richest and highest life. It is clearly impossible to avoid this destruction over all the surface which we win to culture. Spare as we may, the subversion of the ancient balances and adjustments must be complete before the earth is ready for our tillage and other modes of use. This overturning is a part of the destiny of man. It is a characteristic of the new dispensation which came with his progressive desires. Yet the rational quality which has led to the mastery of man may be trusted to bring him to a point where he will endeavor to minimize the ill effects of his actions on the life which has been placed in his hands.

In considering the ways in which we can mitigate the evils of our rule over organic nature, we at once see that our aim should be to preserve all the varieties of living creatures from destruction, provided they are not distinctly harmful to man, and this with the intention of keeping for our successors in the inheritance all that can in any way afford a foundation for further experiments in domestication, materials for learned inquiries, or pleasure in contemplation. To attain this object we cannot trust to the share of this life which can be brought into zoological and botanical gardens, however extensive and well managed. The only way is to make certain reservations in various parts of the world, each containing an area and a variety of conditions great enough to afford a safe lodgment for a true sample of the life of an organic province. Owing to the fact that these provinces are never sharply bounded, it would naturally be impossible to select reservations which would in a complete manner represent all the conditions of the biologic societies; but if properly distributed the outlying animals and plants could in most if not all cases be introduced into one or other of these protected fields, so that there would be little reason to fear that any important part of the existing life would be lost.

Owing to the wise forethought of our American people, a practical foundation of the system of national reservations has been instituted in our so-called national parks. Although these reservations were established to preserve to the public certain natural beauties in the way of scenery or vegetation, or to secure the regimen of streams, they will, if properly guarded against depredations, effect the end which we have in view. Owing to their large area and somewhat varied positions, these parks provide a safe refuge for a great part of the life which belongs in the Cordilleran district of the United States. If the method should be extended to the whole country, we should have the peculiar satisfaction of having been the first state to institute the system of preservation which is here suggested.

To complete a system of reservations designed to perpetuate the aboriginal life of this country would require the institution of about a dozen other similar natural shelters. It would not be necessary to have these on as large a scale as that of the Yellowstone. In most cases areas of from ten to twenty thousand acres in extent would, if well guarded, suffice to give refuge to the animals and plants of the field in which it lay. The selection of these refuges would demand much consideration. In general, it may be said that they need to include at least two on the Atlantic coast, which might also be fitted for the use of marine birds as breeding places, one on the northern part of the coast of Maine, and another in southern Florida. The latter might serve as well for the protection of the turtles which resort to that shore to lay their eggs. Similar coast parks should be established on the shores of the Pacific. Yet other closed areas would be needed in the interior, the evidently desirable fields lying in the region about the headwaters of the Mississippi, in the Adirondacks, in the mountains of North Carolina, in the lower part of the Mississippi delta, in Arizona, and at least two points in Alaska; one of these should afford a place of refuge for the persecuted fur seals and another for the musk-ox.

At first sight it may seem to be a simple matter to accommodate the wild life of a country on a relatively small piece of land. So far, indeed, as the plants, the insects, and the lesser mammalian life are concerned, an area of a few hundred acres will serve very well for their safe harborage, but when it comes to protecting the larger birds and mammals we see how easily the natural balance of life is by some chance influence destroyed. A capital instance of this difficulty which arises when preservation is essayed on small areas has recently been forced on my attention. In Dukes County, Massachusetts, there is the vanishing remnant of an interesting bird known from the island to which it is limited as the Martha's Vineyard prairie chicken. It is closely related to its better known Western kinsman, yet is a distinct variety. Although the form has apparently developed on the island and once abounded there, it has dwindled in numbers until there are but few surviving. In the hope of providing a safe refuge for the remnant, I have for a number of years stopped all shooting on a tract of a thousand or two acres which is well fitted to supply them with food and shelter. As they still dwindled, it seemed probable that the foxes were harming them. This appeared the more likely for the reason that the fox is not a native of the island, but was introduced a few years ago by some reckless experimenters. These marauders were cleared away without good results. Further inquiry made it apparent that the real enemy of these birds was the feralized domestic cat which has gone wild from the households, especially from the many homesteads that have been abandoned. This creature has bred in great numbers and is now threatening the existence of all birds that rear their broods upon the ground. It is hardly possible to exterminate them, for the reason that they are wary, and any systematic hunting of them would prove exceedingly disturbing to the very timid birds. The result is that nearly all these birds have left my land for certain plains near by which are covered with scrub oaks and where there is too little ground life to attract the cats. In that region, though it has an area of about thirty thousand acres, the food is scanty; the prairie chickens dwelling there are likely to perish for lack of the rose-hips which, in the hill country they have been forced to desert, served to maintain them at times when the ground was covered with snow.

The lesson which may be drawn from the experience above stated is to the effect that it is necessary to have a protected field of sufficient area, and in the proper conditions to keep the balance of life which arises from the exchange of relations between species in their normal state. Even in ideal reservations where all invasions are excluded, we should have to expect that from time to time certain forms would disappear, their place perhaps being taken by new species which would arise. Such is the manner of the great procession of life. Probably at least twenty and perhaps a hundred times as many species as are now living on the earth have perished from it, and before the unimaginable goal is attained as many others may pass away. Our task with the refuges would be to keep the death of the specific inhabitants to the natural and wholesome rate that is determined by the endless struggle for existence.

It is impracticable at the present time to devise a scheme for refuge stations in other countries than our own; it is evident, however, that these would have to be numerous and widely distributed. A glance at a map showing the political distribution of the lands will make it evident, however, that within the holdings of the British, French, German, Dutch, and Russian governments there are large areas which might, without evident loss of considerable economic values, immediate or prospective, be turned to such uses, and that these reservations would probably include nearly all that would be required to preserve the most important samples of the primitive life. Some of them, as for instance those intended to retain the large tropical animals in their natural state, would have to be as imperial in their areas as the Yellowstone Park, but these would lie in realms which have no present value to our own race and are scantily inhabited by the indigenous peoples.

It is easy to see that the proposed world-wide system of wilderness stations in which the native life should be preserved from the destructive influences of man's assault upon it could not be brought about without international cooperation and with a considerable expenditure of money both for the foundation and maintenance of the establishments; but, as before remarked, the idea of public reservations of this nature is one which immediately and strongly commended itself to the people of this country and has led their representatives to set aside for such use lands which in the aggregate amount to a larger area than some of our sister states. The same motive is seen in the action of the State of Massachusetts, which a few years ago created a Board of Trustees of Public Reservations, a corporate body authorized to hold in perpetuity lands which are intended to serve the public for pleasure and instruction. The recent rapid extension of the park systems appertaining to the cities of this country and Europe is a further illustration of the same motive which makes for the object which we desire. It therefore seems not unreasonable to hope that very soon we may find the governments of the greater nations willing to go forward on the line of advance in which our own has so well led the way. At the right time the United States could probably do much to further the matter by asking for international action in this admirable work. There is hardly any undertaking which would afford a fairer chance for friendly cooperation among the great states than this which looks forward to the good of the time to come.

While looking forward to the establishment of a system of sanctuaries which may serve to protect examples of the present life of all the lands, it is also well to consider what can be done by local authorities and by individuals in the same direction. The numerous zoological and botanical gardens which have been established in different parts of the world have in part the same motive that is to be embodied in the larger institutions which we would see founded; they seek to preserve the interesting and instructive animals and plants, and in some cases contrive to perpetuate the kinds. The trouble is that their main purpose is to make a striking show, one that will attract the eye and lead to profit of an immediate kind. If these institutions could be persuaded to add to their former exhibitions grounds designed for the maintenance of the natural order, true wildernesses, where the native life would find a fit place of abode and where it would be protected from the ravages of man or from accident, a certain gain would be made; at least the masses of our city people, who have now come to control legislation in the great states, would be brought to see the beauties of the primitive conditions which they now rarely have a chance to behold. Yet more might be accomplished if men of wealth could be induced to turn their generous spirit towards this object. There are many parts of this country where reservations are most desirable and where the price of land is so low that an area of thirty thousand acres could be acquired for that number of dollars. A capital of one hundred thousand dollars would, at the present rates of interest, afford the revenue necessary for the pay of a keeper and half a dozen guards, a sufficient force to maintain a due watchfulness against depredations. Moreover, the use of such land as an asylum would not prevent a careful exploitation of its timber resources, which in many cases would give a sufficient return to provide for the policing expenses, as well as for incidental costs incurred in bringing upon the land species from the neighboring country which it might be desirable to introduce. At a cost of not more than a million dollars it would be possible to secure and maintain a well-chosen system of guarded wildernesses which would preserve the characteristics of the original plant and animal life in all the region of this country lying to the east of the Rocky Mountains.

It would be essential in any such privately founded system of wilderness reservations to have the control of the establishments in the hands of some authorities which were of an enduring nature. In our American experience it has become certain that such trusts cannot be safely reposed in the state or national governments, or in the hands of trustees chosen for the particular function. The only authorities which commend themselves for the execution of such a purpose are those of our universities. In these institutions we find boards which are chosen for the attainment of intellectual ends; in certain cases the choice is made by the vote of an intelligent body of alumni, or in other ways guarded by that body, so that the chance of lapse in the quality of the contract is reduced to a minimum. Several instances could be given showing that such trusts, even when they do not directly pertain to the teaching work of these institutions, have been long and faithfully maintained. We may therefore look upon our universities as the natural repositories of confidences which pertain to the continuous intellectual work of man. There is no other kind of association where interests of the sort which would have to be cared for in the reservations of the wilderness are so likely to receive continuous attention. In these homes of learning, while business considerations enter, personal greed is naturally absent.

The method which may be chosen for the control of wilderness reservations, though a problem of much importance, is of course secondary to the matter of their establishment. This work should at once command the attention of those persons who are of the foresightful class who see beyond the interests of the day, and take account of the needs of the generations to come. Such men will do well to begin the work by organizing a society which shall endeavor to arouse public attention to the destructive effects of man's occupation of the earth by his civilizations. The people need to be taught the true meaning of the indigenous life in relation to the problems of the origin and destiny of our own and other life, to the future exercise of the domesticating art and to the most refined gratifications.

It may be noted that, beginning with the apparently simple and eminently popular questions as to the origin and economic history of the animals which have been subjugated by man, we have been naturally led to the consideration of much larger problems, those relating to the place of man in the order of nature, and his duty by the life of which he is an integral part. There can be no question that the sense of this duty which mastery of the earth gives or should afford is to be one of the moral gifts of modern learning. So long as men considered themselves to be accidents on the earth, imposed upon it by the will of a Supreme Being, but in nowise related in origin and history to the creatures amid which they dwelt, it was natural that they should exercise a careless and despotic power over their subjects. Now that it has been made perfectly clear that we have come forth from the maze of the lower life, that all these tenants of the wilderness are sharers in the order which has brought us to our estate, and that each one of them, plant and animal alike, is the record of the impulses which lead beings upward, we can no longer keep the old careless attitude. We are compelled to deal with the organic hosts as we deal with the creatures of our folds and fields. We have to look upon them all as a member of the great household of man, made such by the intellectual conquest of the world to which he has attained. We may trust the sense of this large duty to extend abroad under the influences which have developed it in the minds of a few men, or we may hasten its development by a propaganda such as is carried on by the societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals. If this latter course is taken the teaching should be on a higher plane than that which we have yet had from those generally admirable associations. Bad as is the ill treatment of domesticated animals, the suppression of that evil will not bring us materially nearer the true attitude that we need to assume in face of our responsibilities to the natural world. We need to see the greatness of the responsibility which has been imposed upon us by the action of the guiding power that has made us lords of the earth.

INDEX

Animals, rights of, 204.
separation of city folk from, 223.
educability of, 227.

Antelopes, 247.

Aryan race, relation to domestication, 152, 220.
relation to rights of animals, 208.

Ass, 93.

Bears, possible domestication of, 243.

Beasts of burden, 103.

Beaver, 246.
habits of, 246.
domestication of, 247.

Bee (honey), 191.
in North America, 195.

Big Bone Lick, Ky., 129.

Birds, 152.
free-flying species of, 182.
tree species of, 182.
vocal powers of, 183.
aesthetic nature of, 187.
conditions of domestication of, 233.
future domestication of, 235.

Bison, 106.
domestication of, 241.

Buffaloes, 105.
African, 106.

Bulls, 105.

Camels, origin of, 119.
limited nature of, 120.
lessening value of, 124.

Cattle (horned), value of, 110.
variations of, 113.

Cats, origin of domesticated forms of, 51.
their love of well-known places, 51.
compared with dogs, 52.
their return to wild state, 55.
no large species domesticated, 56.

Cochineal, 201.

Dogs, origin of, 11.
fossil species of, 15.
savage selection of, 17.
civilized conditions of, 18.
shepherd breed of, etc., 19.
hunting varieties of, 25.
intellectual qualities of, 29.
evils of fancy breeding, 31.
lack of constructive faculty, 40.
modes of expression, 44.
effect on human sympathy, 48.
possible new varieties of, 50.

Domestication, relation to culture, 2.
relation to sympathies, 4.
slow institution of, 7.
mainly by Aryan people, 152.
problem of, 218.
hap-hazard nature of, 225.
conditions of, 229.

Domesticability, on what depending, 107.

Donkey, 93.
limited use of, 94.

Elephants, native freedom of, 107.
origin of, 127.
ancient species of, 128.
present limitation of, 130.
use in war, 130.
domesticability of, 131.
intelligence of, 132.
possible improvement of, 137.
future care of species required for preservation, 249.

Falconry, 184.

Fishes, limits of domestication, 232.

Fowls (barnyard), 153.
mental qualities of, 154.
voices of, 155.
domesticability of, 156.
game variety of, 159.

Giraffe, 249.

Goats, 115.
limited relation to man, 116.
little variation of, 117.
limited intelligence of, 118.

Guinea hen, 164.

Hawking, 184.

Horse, economic value to man, 57.
origin of, 58.
hoof of, 61.
field in which developed, 65.
domestication of, 66.
use in war, 67.
effect of mounted men on early peoples, 69.
future use in military campaigns, 70.
value in agriculture, 74.
mental qualities of, 75.
ready variations of, 78.
Norman variety of, 82.
geographic varieties of, 83.
Arabian variety of, 85.
Indian ponies, 86.
care of, 87.
shoeing of, 91.
influence on man, 100.

Hybrids, utility of, 96.

Insects, 190.
limited value to man, 190.

Kangaroo, 240.

Mammalia, value of class as source of domesticable animals, 149.
future domestication of, 238.

Mammals (tertiary), 150.

Mammoth, 129.

Man, his place in nature, 1.
sudden appearance of, 6.
as a destroyer, 229.

Martha's Vineyard prairie chicken, 257.

Milk, value of, as food, 110.

Monkeys, little use to man, 250.
value for inquiry, 250.

Mule, 95.
limitations in use of, 95.
only hybrid serviceable to man, 96.
mental qualities of, 98.

Musk ox, 241.

Organic hosts, 253.

Ostrich, 168.
possible improvement of, 168.

Pack animals, 104.

Parks, national, etc., 256.

Pea-fowl, 162.
habits of, 163.
intelligence of, 164.

Pets, influence of, 223.

Pig, origin of, 140.
value of flesh, 140.
progressive domestication of, 142.
intelligence of, 143, 148.
variations in habits of, 147.

Pigeons, 175.
origin of, 176.
breeds of, 177.
mental qualities of, 180.

Plants, danger of extinction of species of, 250.

Refuge stations. (See Reservations.)

Reservations (of wilderness), 256.
American, 256.
foreign, 259.
cost of, 261.

Rhinoceros, 249.

Rights of animals, 204.
origin of, 205.

Savages, relation of, to animals, 219.

Seals, possible domestication of, 243.

Sheep, 115.
value of wool, 115.
variations of, 116.
mental qualities of, 118.

Silkworm, 197.

Turkey, origin of, 165.
variations of, 166.
mental qualities of, 167.

Vivisection, 211.

Water-birds, 169.
flight of, 169.
sympathetic quality, 171.

Wildernesses, destruction of, 224.
reservations of, 256.

Wool-bearing animals, 114.

Transcriber's Notes:

Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words retained. (barn-yard, barnyard, hap-hazard, haphazard, help-meet, helpmeet, on-going, ongoing, pre-human, prehuman)

Inconsistencies in spelling of zoological names retained. (aepyornis, Epiornis)

List of illustrations and page 158 caption, among the of four breeds of domestic fowl named, the original spelling of the breed "Houdin" is retained. Probably refers to the breed now more commonly known as "Houdan".

Page 56, unusual spelling of "chetah" retained. Probably refers to "cheetah". (A large Asiatic cat known as the chetah is somewhat)

Page 87, "similiar" changed to "similar". (reason that nothing similar)

Page 158, 160, 173 captions. The original appearance and wording is reproduced in the html version. For the text version, more meaningful and grammatical captions have been provided as the original captions comprised a series of separate breed or species names used to label the animals in the illustration.

Page 179, original text "In early time" retained, although "In early times" is probably more grammatical. (In early time, before the invention of)

Page 256, "cordilleran" changed to "Cordilleran". ( the Cordilleran district of the United States)

Page 266, index entry "Ostrich, possible improvement of". Page reference changed from 108 to 168. Page 108 has no content fitting the topic while page 168 clearly has.

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End of Project Gutenberg's Domesticated Animals, by Nathaniel Southgate Shaler