Gerald Durrell - Island Zoo

Giant

Anteater

Amos was no exception. In fact he was so stubborn that I was beginning to think I would have to let him go, and then I had an idea. I went to a white ants 1nest, broke it open and scooped out a jugful of white ants, and these I sprinkled over the top of the meat and egg mixture. Seeing white ants on top made Amos very en­thusiastic, and he had soon eaten up the whole bowl of food. For a week he was given the mixture, with white ants on top, and gradu­ally, day by day, I reduced the number of ants, until, at the end of the week, Amos was eating his new diet with gusto, and thriving on it.

Funny enough strangely, you have no feeding troubles with the other sort of anteater found in South America, the small brown and silver tamandua (ta-man-DWA). These will take to the mince, egg and milk diet without any trouble. The trouble they give you is in catching them. Unlike the giant anteater, the tamandua lives in thick forest, and is a skilful tree climber; the only way you can hunt and catch him is with a pack of dogs. I remember one hunt I undertook, in the Guiana forests, after a tamandua, and it was a hunt that lasted nearly all day. We had set off into the forests in the early morning, myself, three Indian guides and a pack of five dogs. The dogs soon found a scent, and rushed off through the trees, all barking ex­citedly, and we ran after them, ducking and jumping over the tangled creepers. It was very important that we kept up with the dogs: otherwise, when they cornered the animal, they might harm it if we were not there to call them off.

Eventually the hunt led us to the banks of a small river and there, standing at bay among the bushes, was a huge iguana, the giant South America lizard that, with its emerald green skin and crest along its back, looks just like a story-book dragon. After some difficulty we managed to get a net over him, and then put him in a bag before continuing with the hunt. We walked for about an hour before the dogs got another scent, and after we had run about two miles we found to our annoyance that the dogs had lost whatever it was they had been chasing. It was not until evening that the dogs found another fresh scent, and raced off, barking loudly. By this time we were very tired, and it was all we could do to keep up with them. Then, as I was running along, I brushed a small bush out of my way. It was unfortunate that this particular bush contained a tree-ants’ nest, and a dozen or so of the ants fell on to my arm. These ants, although quite tiny, can give you a vicious bite, and within a minute my arm was red and swollen, and I felt as though I had been stung by about forty wasps. Fortunately, shortly after that, the dogs came to a halt, and I was able to bathe my arm in a stream which made it feel better.

The dogs were very puzzled, for the animal they had been fol­lowing had apparently disappeared into thin air. They wandered round and round, sniffing here and there, wearing mystified expres­sions, while we lay on the ground to recover our breath. As I was lying there, gazing up into the treetops above, I saw what I thought was a very curiously shaped ants’ nest attached to one of the branches about thirty feet above us. The dogs were still sniffing about, and it seemed fairly obvious they were not going to find the scent again, and I was just about to suggest we made for camp, when I saw that the curious ants’ nest was now looking even more curious, for it had grown a tail. I looked at it in amazement, and as I watched I saw it move. Well, I had never seen an ants’ nest that could move, so I stood up to get a better look, and there on the branch was a tamandua, sitting quietly and watching the dogs. It was no wonder that the dogs were puzzled, for having tracked the

Tamandua

tamandua so far on the ground they did not expect him suddenly to take to the trees. I pointed the animal out to my hunters, and one of them quickly shinned up the tree, hoping to catch the tamandua unawares. However, he made too much noise, and the tamandua looked over his shoulder and saw the Indian climbing up towards him. He uttered a hiss of annoyance and started to climb higher into the tree. The Indian swarmed up rapidly after him, and the tamandua, finding himself being overtaken, got in a panic, and instead of continuing up the tree he rushed out to the end of a long thin branch. This was the stupidest thing he could have done, for when the Indian reached the branch, he squatted in the fork of the tree and drew out his machete—the long broad-bladed knife which all the Indians always carry with them in the forests. A few quick slashes with the sharp blade and he had cut off the branch, with the tamandua hanging on the end of it, hissing indignantly at having been fooled like this. Then we held out a net beneath the tree, and the Indian dropped the tamandua, branch and all, into it. In a minute or so we had the furious creature safely in a bag, and we set off jubilantly for camp.

Other animals that belong to the same group as the anteaters are the armadillos, of which there are many different kinds. The one we have is called Henrietta, and she is a hairy armadillo which 1 caught down in Patagonia, at the southern end of South America. The countryside is very flat in Patagonia, and is covered with prickly thorn scrub and giant thistles, which can grow to a height of nine feet. The armadillos live in burrows that they dig in this prickly undergrowth, and only come out at night to hunt around for their food. So, the best way of catching armadillos is to hunt them at night, with the aid of a dog. You also carry with you a powerful flashlight and a spade, for if you do not catch up with the armadillo in time, and he bolts into his burrow, the only way of getting him is to dig him out.

We set off this particular moonlit evening, and we had walked a considerable distance across the plain, when we came to a great patch of giant thistles. Here our dog got very excited and started to run to and fro, sniffing at the ground and growling to himself. We waited to see what would happen. Presently the dog picked up the scent and rushed off' into the thick tangle of thistles, and we followed as fast as we could, pushing our way through the thick stems, and getting well pricked in the process. The thistles were so tall we could not see where we were going, and all we could do was to follow the

Hairy Armadillo

crackling noise of the dog and his faint barks ahead of us. Suddenly we came out in a clearing in the center of the thistle patch, a big area of grass surrounded by a thick hedge of thistles. We were just in time to see our dog racing across the grass, hotly pursuing an armadillo, which was scuttling along at full speed, looking like some strange clockwork toy in the moonlight. We could see that the armadillo was heading for a hole, and we rushed forward to try to catch it before it disappeared into the earth, but we were just too late, for as we arrived at the hole the armadillo disappeared down it.

But then, to our surprise, it suddenly shot out again, and it was closely followed by a very indignant skunk. The skunk put up his tail and squirted his evil-smelling scent at us—and all of us, includ­ing the armadillo and the dog, ran away as fast as we could. The only one who did not escape without getting sprayed was the dog, and in a minute he was rolling and whining in the grass as he tried to rub the foul smell from his body. Luckily, the armadillo, out of breath by this time, did not run far but took refuge in a clump of thistles, where we managed to surround and catch her. But then we had to call off the hunt, for the poor dog, reeking to high heaven, had decided that getting mixed up with skunks was not his idea of a good hunt, and had gone off home. And we ail (still smelling a bit) followed him back to the ranch, carrying in triumph Henrietta the hairy armadillo.