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...Some poachers are tribal villagers, illiterate and poor, who stalk their prey on foot, walking for weeks, living off game. A poacher in Kenya says he believes tribal charms make him invisible to antipoaching units. He buries his tusks in the village latrine or hides them in a nearby cave. He sells them for a pittance (as little as $40 for a tusk that may eventually bring $1,000 in Japan) to a respected businessman in a nearby town, who sells them to someone else for three times what he paid...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Elephants: Trail of Shame | 10/16/1989 | See Source »

Since ancient times, human beings have been fascinated by elephants. From the powerful woolly mammoths that dominate prehistoric cave paintings to the soulful Babar of children's stories, these partisans of the order Proboscidea have captivated us with their gentleness and awed us with their strength. Unfortunately for the elephant, however, the world's affection for ivory is almost as ancient and as great. Today the voracious appetite for the tusks of African elephants -- particularly in the Far East -- threatens to eradicate this noble species. TIME correspondent Ted Gup chronicles the danger in this week's cover story...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: From the Publisher: Oct 16 1989 | 10/16/1989 | See Source »

...some 150 American zoos in between, the troubles are not very different. The sharks eat the angelfish. The Australian hairy-nosed wombat stays in its cave, and the South American smoky jungle frog hunkers down beneath a leaf, all tantalizingly hidden from the prying eyes of the roughly 110 million Americans who go to zoos every year. Visitors often complain that as a result of all the elaborate landscaping, they cannot find the animals. But this, like almost everything else that goes wrong these days, is a signal that America's zoos are doing something very right...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Living: The New Zoo: A Modern Ark | 8/21/1989 | See Source »

...even possible to be wet and hip at the same time. In Manhattan's East Village, best explored with a bodyguard, the trendies dine at Cave Canem, a converted Turkish bathhouse serving a Roman feast, where the dance floor abuts a 7-ft. by 9-ft. pool. Summer Tuesdays and Thursdays are swimming nights. Says Owner Hayne Suthon, as she wrings out her hair in a towel: "It's the only place you can go swimming in New York without cement shoes and garbage bags." And the wildlife is spectacular...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Living: Come On In, The Water's Fine! | 8/14/1989 | See Source »

Taken with the romance of the idea, Mr. Keatings' students decided to make their own foray to the Indian cave. They read poetry, sang, danced, smoked pot, told ghost stories and knew that they were no longer conforming...

Author: By Melissa R. Hart, | Title: You Can't Quantify `Dead Poet's' | 6/30/1989 | See Source »

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