FOREST LAW IN THE EMPIRE.
FOREST law is a luxury for a nation, and therefore much open to the criticism of those who have little hinny), in their lives. The peasant who with heavy toil had made a clearing in a Wessex forest had small cause to love the law of his Norman masters which docked him of his ears if he sent an arrow into one of the great beasts that raided his slender crop-lands. But there is a distinction worth observing. Forest law may either be a gross product of private luxury and class tyranny, and therefore hostile to the whole civic ideal, or it may in itself be a civic ideal, based on the State's duty to preserve whatever is beautiful and curious for the continued enjoyment of its citizens. The first kind of forest law dis- appears with the advance of civilisation. When a great noble ruled a shire of marsh and moorland with few in- habitants, it was only natural that he should treat it as a hunting-ground. Wild game was then, as it is still in certain parts of Scotland, the most economically profitable stock to cultivate. But as the country fills up, and marshes are drained and hills ploughed, human beings must necessarily oust the deer ; the right of the lord to enjoy himself cannot prevail against the right of his tenants to live ; and the forest law, after a few struggles, becomes a quaint anachronism. Attempts are still made to restore the old tradition, but the current of opinion has swept far away from it, and the efforts are vain. But the second forest law is itself born of civilisa- tion. The State, having surmounted the bare struggle for life, has leisure for its amenities. As it establishes museums and jardins des plantes, so it also tries to preserve in their native habitats the wild creatures of the land. In a long- settled country the experiment is impossible, since there is no room for such reserves, and in any case the animals have gone beyond hope of recall; but in a land still in the making the experiment is feasible and wholly to be commended. Had the game of South Africa been given the most modest pro- tection twenty years ago, we should not now have to lament the veld almost denuded of that wild life which once made it the hunter's paradise.
The policy of game preservation in new countries must take a twofold form. First, we must have good game-laws, under which the shooting of the rarer animals is totally prohibited, and others are killed only under license, while a close season is ordained during the breeding period of the year. In ordinary circumstances this would be enough to safeguard the interests of wild game. But, unfortunately, in new and spacious countries distances are great, and the arm of the law is short. Natives are, as a rule, inveterate poachers, and since they kill the game by means of pits and poisons, they destroy it in quantities at a time. The most efficient corps of border police cannot ensure that natives in their district do not kill during the close season or massacre animals which are "Royal game." A rare animal may therefore be utterly exterminated in spite of stringent rules made for its protection. Hence arises the necessity for the further policy of game reserves, where an area of land is marked out, and wild animals are made sacrosanct within its bounds. A patch of the primeval world is re-established by British law, and kept inviolate by British wardens. Scarcely any British possession in the Tropics is without such a reserve. To take Africa alone, there are extensive reserves in the Soudan on both Niles ; in East Africa there is one near Lake Rudolph, and a vast sanctuary in the Athi plains south of the railway ; in Central
Africa there is a reserve in the southern part of the Shire Valley and round Lake Mweru ; while in South Africa there is a small reserve in the Pongola Bush, and a large one in the Transvaal between the Olifants River and the Delagoa Bay Railway.
Against the general policy of such reserves there is nothing to be said. Any man who desires to see beautiful wild things saved from the devastating advance of civilisation, and all who want big-game shooting to be still an attainable sport, must wish well to the various local Administrations in their efforts. But at the same time the matter requires careful handling lest a really vexatious and antiquated forest law show itself again in the Empire. For the essence of a game reserve is that it should in no way interfere with the develop- ment of the land. It is regrettable that wild animals should depart, but it is more regrettable that settlers and new industries should not appear. A reserve may be established to-day in desert and apparently unsettleable country with no human habitations near. But to-morrow it may turn out that the laud is really most valuable and productive, while civilisation has closed round the forest pale and peaceable folk suffer much from their wild neighbours. The forest has become an anachronism and a nuisance, and must either be transformed or abolished. This we regard as a settled law of Imperial development, to which every one, even the keenest naturalists and sportsmen, must agree. A striking letter which we publish this week from a well-known resident in Nyasaland brings out the danger which a forest may be as a bar to the development of the country. His complaint demands the most careful attention. The *chief grounds of his criticism are three. In the first place, beasts of prey like lions are allowed to increase unchecked, until they sally forth from the sanctuary and take toll of the whole neighbourhood. The township of Chiromo has recently been put in a state of siege by lions from the game reserve, and there are endless stories of native deaths.
Further, less dangerous animals like the buffalo and the elephant are exceedingly destructive to all crops in the vicinity. In the second place, he maintains, the game reserves tend to perpetuate the tsetse-fly, and therefore impede all facilities for communication throughout the country, while with the tsetse-fly comes the dreaded sleeping- sickness. The last danger is not yet proven, for it is still
doubtful whether the glossina morsitans is, like the glossina polpalis, a carrier of the disease; but the reality of the first is beyond doubt. Finally, seclusion as a reserve, says our correspondent, is a barren and uneconomic use to which to devote certain tracts of country which are capable of settle- ment. From these contentions it is impossible to differ ; but they do not therefore lead to a general condemnation of the system of reserves. The increase of dangerous animals is surely due to bad management. Sanctuaries are not created for the benefit of lions, but mainly for the sake of game on which lions prey. Too many lions will defeat the purpose of a reserve, and it is the business of the wardens to keep them down. It may. be argued that in a wild country it is impossible to keep a competent staff; but our answer is that no Administration has any business to create a reserve unless it can look after it. The Transvaal game reserve is a good instance of an efficiently administered sanctuary, against which there has never been a suggestion of complaint. As to the tsetse-fly, again, there must be rigorous supervision. A game reserve near a great high road is an obvious peril, but the fly goes in belts, and there is no reason why the reserve should not be outside the area and away from any of the main arteries of communication. The last criticism is, to our mind, the most serious. Before a country has been proved, land may be devoted to a forest which is fit for other purposes. If such a contingency arises, and there is need of the land, then undoubtedly the forest must go. For, important as the preservation of game is, the development of the country must always precede it.
We differ from our correspondent in believing that big game will never be preserved merely by game-laws, but must have some kind of sanctuary where it is wholly immune. But we agree with him that the policy must be scrutinised jealously, and made subservient to more vital needs. After all, it is only a question of placing your sanctuary. "This whole idea of game sanctuaries," we are told, "rests upon the idea that Africa is a wild, uncivilised, and useless country, instead of which it is being pierced by railways in every direction, and is being fast turned into a civilised, well-populated, and pro- ductive territory." But there are many parts of Africa which are still, and must remain, "wild, uncivilised, and useless." Our correspondent praises the Lake Mweru Reserve as being judiciously placed, and there are many reserves in the Soudan and East Africa to which the same would apply. When any sanctuary begins to be a discomfort to the neighbourhood and seriously impedes development, then, regretfully but inevitably, it must be sacrificed. Zoological gardens are an excellent institution, and it does not detract from their merits that they would be a serious nuisance if they were located in Trafalgar Square, and if the inmates were allowed to investi- gate the food-supply of the adjacent streets.
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