The Fulvous Whistling Duck (Dendrocygna bicolor)

Abstract

In my experience, rhinos in zoos are sedate animals. They stand. When they do move, it is usually with a ponderous stateliness. I have seen a lot of rhinos in a lot of zoos and have thus formed certain expectations. So I was startled when a Black Rhinoceros gave a snort like a rifle-shot and charged wildly across her yard, swinging her head back and forth. What might have been entertaining was, under the circumstances, alarming, as this behavior happened to coincide perfectly with the bland announcement that I would be expected to explore the African rhino yards for duck eggs on a regular basis. It was a bleak late afternoon in December,
1991, and I was being shown my future string of exhibits by Chris Brown, Curator of Birds. I'd arrived in town the night before, aware my primary exhibit was the great glass atrium in the soon-to-be opened World of Primates, an eventual home for finches and softbills. It happened that this brand new building adjoined the Gloria and Harry Tenn ison Rhinoceros Exhibits and the associated display
for Giraffes, and it was only logical that its bird keeper should be responsible for the waterfowl next door. Chris advised I'd do well to establish friendly relations with the rhino staff. As it happened, my anxieties were groundless. Of the three full-time rhino keepers, one is in charge of the  fairly regularly scheduled literary evenings at a local coffee house. Readers of this magazine should be pleased to know that prior to submission, I read my manuscripts before my fellow zoofolk and other vigorous critics. As my articles provide an (at times) welcome relief to moody Jove poems and introspective musings on the meaning of life, I can be confident Dan will be certain the rhinos are in while I hunt for eggs in their yards. The same applies for giraffes. That they can decapitate a lion with a single kick is one of those bits of trivia zoo keepers are expected to dispense at parties. The same time I started at Fort Worth, Lis Glassco, our assistant curator, arrived from the ational Zoo, bringing with her numerous innovations. One of the first to be instituted was an egg log, to be fil led out by keepers as they discovered the eggs. During 1992 there were 929 eggs logged. From late January to the beginning of March, Crested Wood Partridges (Rollulus roulroul) predominated, then the waterfowl took over. Brazilian Teal, Chestnut Teal, Chiloe Wigeon, Wood Ducks, Hooded Mergansers, Rudely Ducks (and the occasional "myste1y cluck"), were followed , as May passed into June, by Marbled Teal, Redheads , Shovelers, and Ringed Teal. one of these, however, emanated from the "African Lagoon", across which the public stares at Reticulated Giraffes,  and Black and White Rhinoceroses. The partial shell of a suspiciously large egg I found one of our female Comb Ducks eating in early March was not logged at all. Three eggs hopefully logged (in a hand other than my own) as Garganey Teal (placed in the exhibit April 20), were placed in the incubator May 27, and removed June 6, when nothing appeared to be growing. I did enter egg 503 as "Duck?" ("Discovered in open depression in Giraffe Exhibit") June 8, incubated June 10, and discarded seven days later. Between three eggs labeled "Duck Pond" (which is next to the Aquarium) and two further Roul Rouls , I logged eggs number 555 and  556 as "Giraffes" on June 15, and noted they were "Rotten - Thrown Away"). Another giraffe's egg appears between a Roadrunner and a Roul Roul, found July 2, incubated July 4 and discarded July 7. As July progressed, the Roul Roul Partridges again dominated the log (punctuated by such things as my discovery of a nest full of bright-eyed Dybowski's Twinspots (Euschistospiza dybowskii) on July 14, the first hatched in a U.S. public zoo). Waterfowl entries trickled to a small minority. Among these few are a fourth giraffe egg, found July 19. It was significantly different. It was big. The previous ones were quite small, and presumed to be Cape Teal, which, as all the ones in "African Lagoon" are siblings, we didn't want to hatch anyway. Quite aside from its bigness, the day it was retrieved, a female Comb Duck (Sarkidomis m. melanotos) had been rude to Stacey Dunlop, our summer mammal keeper (home from Tuskeegee Institute). Grotesquely magnificent, Comb Ducks are probably my favorite Anatid, and the fact one of our two females was displaying aggression to keepers the day an odd egg was discovered was tantalizing. Unfortunately, this egg, too, failed to show any developement. A fifth giraffe egg, again big, was found July 28, but cracked and leaking. It was in the White Rhino yard that Stacey and Dan Grandquist, our literary Large Mammal Keeper, found seven large eggs, which I'd overlooked, beneath a log, and gleefully brought them to coffee break in a bucket. It was August 1, and they were at once placed in the incubator, as I had no idea when they'd been laid. I optimistically entered them as possible Comb Ducks or...