The idea of a Swiss national park originated with the Swiss Society for Nature Research and this Society played the leading part in its realization. In 1906 the Society set up as part of its own organization a Swiss Nature Protection Commission and charged it to search for an area in Switzerland suitable for establishment as a reserve, in which all the animal and plant life could be protected against interference by man and so could be left entirely to the play of natural forces. It was not easy to find in Switzerland a suitably large area which still retained its original characteristics, was virtually free from human settlement, and contained some wealth of fauna and flora. After a careful survey of the whole country it became clear that the most suitable region was the Lower Engadine, with its isolated valleys on the eastern border of the country. The district in which, at the beginning of the century, bears had still lived was the one in which primitive nature could be found in its truest state.

The polar bear, Thalarctos maritimus, (Phipps) enjoys such colloquial names as: “ice-bear,” “sea-bear,” “ice-tiger” and “ice-king.” In view of its large size and its supremacy over the other beasts of the ice-floes it well deserves these epithets. Primarily the polar bear is an animal of the broken arctic pack ice and is found in greatest numbers along the southern edge of the pack. It avoids large expanses of open water or frozen sea ice. The movements of the pack ice to a large degree determine its distribution and movements. Polar bears are carried southward with the pack ice in the spring and summer. In August and September when the ice begins to break up they generally come ashore and make their way north. At this time of year they may be found in considerable numbers along certain coasts where the sea ice has been brought by the winds, tides and currents. An Eskimo from Southampton Island, in northern Hudson Bay, informed me that in August, 1948, he and a companion counted over 180 of these bears along the east coast of that island.

At the base of the Alaska Peninsula, in south-western Alaska, is a remarkable nature sanctuary. It is by far the largest park in United States' territory and among the dozen largest in the world. It is the only completely roadless park in America. It is the site of one of history's mightiest volcanic eruptions. It has magnificent scenery—mountains, smoking volcanos, glaciers, picture-book lakes, a rugged marine coast with colourful fiords and, in a near-aboriginal fauna, the largest carnivore in the world. Many persons—even Americans—have never heard the name of this park: Katmai National Monument.

In about 500 b.c. the Carthaginian navigator Hanno brought back the first reports of the existence of gorillas in the forests of West Africa. They were doubtless known also to the early Portuguese and other voyagers along the Guinea coast and in 1590, Battel, who called them “pongos” to distinguish them from the smaller “engeco” or chimpanzee, described them with fair accuracy:—“exactly proportioned like a man, but he is more like a giant in stature for he is very tall and hath a man's face, hollow eyed, with long hair upon his brows…they sleep in the trees and build shelters from the rain. They feed upon fruit that they find in the woods and upon nuts for they eat no kind of flesh.”

Although during these enlightened times the welfare of the wild life of Africa is discussed internationally on a par with development, there is still great lack of information on the habits, ecological requirements and population densities of even the more common animals. This contribution attempts partly to fill this gap by recording the result of a years' observation on a herd of topi in the Rukwa valley of south-western Tanganyika.

Near the southernmost tip of Africa, within fourteen miles, of Capetown, there was opened in 1952 the Rondevlei bird sanctuary. It is only a mile long and a third of a mile wide, small indeed compared with the great game reserves with which Africa is often associated. Yet it has value altogether out of proportion to its size.

On the credit side can be put increases in the Indian lion and the great Indian rhinoceros.

In 1950 the lion population of the Gir Forest was carefully assessed at 250 (see Oryx, vol. I, No. 2, pp. 99–101). In 1955 a similar census gave 290, an increase of 40 in four years, though the proportion of cubs to adults had decreased.

In 1949 work commenced on the most ambitious development scheme so far carried out in Ceylon, for the opening up of some 400,000 acres of forest for agricultural and industrial purposes. The whole scheme comes under the auspices of an autonomous body “The Gal Oya Development Board”. A dam has been built across the Gal Oya, which is a perennial river, to form, a vast reservoir, the largest in the island, covering some 35·8 square miles. Large tracts of forest-land have been cleared for cultivation and settlement and a net-work of roads and distributory channels has been constructed.

The Luangwa Valley Game Reserve, in the northern, eastern and southern provinces of Northern Rhodesia, covers approximately 5,000 square miles. It is in two separate sections, divided by a comparatively narrow corridor which is inhabited by an African community. This strip of country embraces the Munyamadzi and Mupamadzi rivers, two of the Luangwa's rare perennial tributaries and cuts north-east to south-west across the valley from the Muchinga Hills to the Luangwa river.

The African Wild Dog, or Hunting Dog, Lycaon pictus, is a distinct species and is neither related to any domestic breed nor does it appear to be the forerunner of any known type of domestic dog: there are in fact certain structural differences, such as the absence of dew-claws. The dogs stand about twenty-six inches at the shoulder and measure about four feet from nose to tip of bushy tail. The colour is variable but is similar to that of a normal Alsatian, covered to a greater or lesser degree with black, yellow or white blotches. A notable feature is the large upstanding, rounded ears. There are recorded cases of the wild dog having been successfully tamed, but an objectionable smell renders them somewhat unpleasant as household pets.

“Gorongoza is, without any doubt, one of the most marvellous wild life sanctuaries in the world. The variety and abundance of animals is wonderful. Nobody should let slip an opportunity of seeing this place where old Africa has been safely preserved.”

These were the words of admiration which Mr. Victor Cahalane, chief biologist of the United States National Parks Department, entered in the visitors' book after his visit to the Gorongoza Park.

Why do we try to preserve wild animals? Why do we set aside delightful scenes of nature? Why do we establish open spaces and national parks? Would it not be better to accept here and now that man in his dominion over all the lesser creatures has every right to divest the land of animals, trees, or anything else which may stand in his way, or hinder him in exploiting the earth for the alleged well-being of mankind? Vast sums are spent in the larger continents to control domestic animal diseases; greater sums are spent in denuding the face of the earth of its natural cover, so that there can be more room for cattle, crops, factories and cities, in an attempt to meet the insatiable clamour of millions of human beings. Should we not pause to assess what irreplaceable assets are being endangered by this scramble and to what extent those assets contribute to men's peace of mind?

Around the seas of the far northern Atlantic coming under the influence of Arctic conditions lives, frequently on the wander, one of the most delightful of creatures, the harp seal or saddleback, Phoca groenlandica. Large communities migrate in the Newfoundland, Labrador, Baffin Land, Greenland sector; others through the area of Jan Mayen Island towards Spitzbergen. Gregarious for much of the time, they share their world of ice with the occasional bearded seal and ringed seal, walrus, and polar bear. The White Sea in northern European Russia is a great harp seal nursery, for an eastern community in the area of the Barents Sea.

With the annual increase in the population and the ever deepening human advance into the remoter areas of Ceylon, it has become recognized that the ultimate extermination of the larger fauna of the country is alarmingly close at hand. In fact, only in those reserves that survive the innumerable demands of a rapidly growing country will future generations of Ceylon be able to see their natural heritage in its wild state.