In the country of gazelles /

The author of one book and some 30 papers on African antelopes (gazelles in particular), German ethologist Walther here presents a capstone to his career. His book comes across as a labor of love from one who has spent the better part of his life studying Thompson's and Grant's gazelles in every season, at all times of the day and night. This is not a scientific treatise in the sense of being replete with charts and graphs but a narrative that, in addition to presenting elaborate accounts of the species' life histories and behaviors, gives the reader a flavor of both the vicissitudes and pleasures of life in the bush as experienced by Walther. In addition to a single map of the study areas, there are dozens of illustrations, either black-and-white photographs or detailed pencil sketches made by the author. An appendix includes the common and scientific names of the mammals and birds mentioned in the text and a list of all the author's publications. Pleasant reading for all levels of readers, especially those in zoology and animal behavior. H. N. Cunningham Jr.; Pennsylvania State University at Erie-Behrend College

Walther's affection for gazelles developed when he toured the Dresden Zoo as a lad, but his fieldwork in Africa did not start until decades later, in 1965, after serving in World War II and studying and teaching in Europe and the U.S. Walther's focus is on animal behavior, and his passion for these animals lends his scientific observations a panache not always found in such strict observational studies. For a man who spent years in the Serengeti, he finds lions dull creatures (although they totally captured his interest when he accidently wandered into a pride while surveying), and his discussion of his encounters is perfunctory. But his accounts of the mating, grazing, territorializing, and fleet-footed departures of Grant's gazelles, zebras, dik-diks, and his favorite, Tommys (Thompson's gazelles), are inspired. --Denise Perry Donavin

A leisurely, folksy account of Serengeti days spent communing with horned ungulates. During the mid-1960s and early 1970s--while teaching at the University of Missouri, Columbia, and then at Texas A&M--Walther spent a goodly amount of time in the Serengeti National Park in East Africa doing fieldwork in the then-new science of ethology (species-specific behavior in animals), studying gazelles in particular. This short volume is the fruit of those African experiences, written at a distance of 25 years. It's the kind of monograph Sherlock Holmes would approve for its wealth of fact and observation, yet it also makes comfortable fireside reading, with its reminiscences of a tourist-free savannah and its fogyish humor. Much of the book is given over to recording the daily life of gazelles: their territorial marking walks, grazings, snoozes in the sun, flirtations, copulations, clashes with neighboring bucks, more grazings and markings, another catnap--life in the slow lane. Walther unleashes a bit of hard science when he discusses mating rituals and flight distances, alpha male roles and mass migration patterns. With obvious pleasure, he cuts the mighty simba down a notch. ``I can unreservedly agree with only one of the laudatory tributes,'' he writes. ``The lion is yellow--more or less.'' Walther was a field man of the old school: He made his own maps; kept long, hard hours; fended, alone, for himself; and was not afraid of some modest anthropomorphism. (He still isn't, referring in the text to the gazelles as ``my people'' and giving them names.) The book's only lack is a glossary; it's hard to keep straight whether a dik-dik prefers sotting within sight of a mbuga...or maybe it was a kopje. Wonderfully rich and detailed, filled with vignettes, a lovely blend of science and memoir. (41 b&w photos, not seen)