And the master of the castle replied—
"In time, in time."
Julia Goddard.
MORNINGS AT THE ZOO.
IX.—THE KANGAROOS.
T
he famous navigator, Captain Cook, was the means of introducing Kangaroos for the first time to the notice of Europeans. In 1770, during his great voyage of discovery, his ship lay off the coast of New South Wales undergoing repair. One day some of the crew were sent ashore to procure food for several sick sailors. The men saw a number of animals with small fore legs, big hind ones, long and stout tails, which bounded away with incredible speed, clearing the ground by a series of extraordinary leaps. You may be sure that on their return to the vessel the amazed seamen did not fail to talk of the curious creatures, and their description induced the captain and Mr. (afterwards Sir Joseph) Banks—the naturalist of the expedition—to start next day for a sight of the strange animals. They, too, were fortunate enough to witness the antics of the kangaroos; and so one of the most important of the natives of Australia became known to the civilised world.
Since Captain Cook's discovery (June 22nd, 1770) these creatures have been imported alive into this and other countries. They thrive in captivity, though the variable climate of England tries them at times. At the London Zoological Gardens they seem to enjoy life in a moderate way, though probably they miss the freedom of the immense plains of Australia. They are not much run after by the visitors, though the "sheds" in the Regent's Park collection are always quite accessible. Why this should be so it is difficult to explain, for the kangaroos have many points of remarkable interest. Their keeper tells me that he does not agree with the opinion that they are unintelligent creatures. Though not so docile and smart as other inmates of the Gardens, he has succeeded in training the great kangaroo to perform several tricks. They all recognise him readily, and do what he tells them. He entered the shed for the purpose of fetching the female kangaroo out of the house, so that I might see the baby kangaroo in its mother's pouch. But it so happened that the father was standing against the door-grating, and he had to be reasoned with before he would retire to allow the gate to be opened. But he ultimately obeyed his keeper's instructions. Then he was bidden to seat himself upright upon his huge tail; and this he did, remaining quite motionless till he was released by word of command. The keeper then affected to bestow upon him a gentle cuff on the head, but each time the hand approached, the head was smartly ducked under, and the blow thus avoided. On his part, he attempted to give the keeper a kick, quite in a playful way, but the latter held himself at arms' length, and so the kangaroo's legs merely brushed the keeper's coat. On going into the house at the back of the shed, the mother kangaroo—addressed familiarly "Now, old lady"—was ordered to come out into the open, and in a few moments the big animal in two or three graceful bounds appeared in front of the shed, her little one popping its head out of the pouch, and looking supremely indifferent about its mother's hops. The kangaroos are not costly animals to support, and, though their food consists of grain and some kinds of green stuff, they are rather partial to the bits of biscuit and bun which visitors offer indiscriminately to every animal in the Zoo—under the notion that this is the staple food of the various inmates, of flesh-eaters and grain-eaters alike.
Sydney Smith hit off the distinguishing features of this creature in his own peculiar style. By a sort of happy exaggeration he described it as "a monstrous animal, as tall as a grenadier, with the head of a rabbit, a tail as big as a bed-post, hopping along at the rate of five hops to the mile, with three or four young kangaroos looking out of the pouch to see what is passing." Though not an aggressive animal, the kangaroo when at bay is one of the most formidable of opponents. This element of danger it is, probably, which lends so much zest to a kangaroo hunt.
Mounted on horses and accompanied by a number of trained dogs, the huntsmen chase their prey for miles ere a capture is effected. Before the kangaroo takes to its heels, it usually raises itself up and makes a hurried survey of the country—to see its enemies and the quarter to which it could with greatest ease escape. After this hasty look round it runs off at a marvellous pace, very soon leaving the dogs far behind. It maintains its great speed unimpaired for at least three or four miles, after which it begins to go more slowly, and an attack at close quarters may soon be looked for. A single dog has no chance at all. With a stroke of its powerful hind leg, the kangaroo attacks, and lays it dead at its feet, or, seizing it with its fore limbs, it hugs the dog, and leaps off with it to the nearest water-hole, where it plunges it underneath, holding it down until the dog is drowned. A man is just as completely at its mercy. The kangaroo is a capital swimmer, and has been known to swim for a mile against a strong head wind, but under favourable conditions as to weather it can cover a much longer distance; consequently when pursued it always makes straight for a river or other water, should it be within reach. Both hind feet are armed with a singularly dangerous weapon. The fourth toe is prolonged in some cases to an enormous size, forming a claw, which is used either for stabbing or striking an antagonist. When a kangaroo has been brought to bay, therefore, great care has to be observed in approaching it. The plan adopted is to set several dogs on it, and while one makes a show of assailing it, and so engages its attention, the rest rush in upon the gallant animal and kill it. The natives employ another mode of warfare. Surrounding gradually a herd of kangaroos, they close in upon them with yells and shouts, and generally succeed in spearing several of them. But the rifle places the animal at a manifest disadvantage, and by the use of this weapon the kangaroos have been entirely driven off the settlements. No doubt it had become necessary to resort to some effectual method of dislodging them, for many of the pastoral districts had been stripped of every blade of grass by their ravages.