There are several of the Australasian dogs in the gardens of the Zoological Society of London. One of them has been an inmate of that establishment nine years, others more than five years; but not an individual has acquired the bark of the other dogs by which they are surrounded. When a stranger makes his appearance, or when the hour of feeding arrives, the howl of the Australasian is the first sound that is heard, and it is louder than all the rest.
If some of them have thrown off a portion of their native ferocity, others retain it undiminished. A bitch and two of her whelps, nearly half grown — a male and female — had inhabited the same cage from the time that the young ones were born. Some cause of quarrel occurred on a certain night, and the two bitches fell upon the dog and perfectly destroyed him. There was not a limb left whole. A stronger instance of the innate ferocity of this breed could scarcely be given. Even in their native country all attempts perfectly to domesticate them have failed; for they never lose an opportunity to devour the poultry or attack the sheep. Every domesticated dog coming within their reach was immediately destroyed. One that was brought to England broke his chain — scoured the surrounding country — and, before dawn, had destroyed several sheep; and another attacked, and would have destroyed, an ass, if he had not been prevented.
Mr. Oxley, Surveyor-General of New South Wales, however, gives an interesting account of the mutual attachment between two of the native and wild New Holland dingos.
"About a week ago we killed a native dog, and threw his body on a small bush. On returning past the same spot to-day, we found the body removed three or four yards from the bush, and the female in a dying-state lying close beside it: she had apparently been there from the day the dog was killed. Being now so weakened and emaciated as to be unable to move on our approach, it was deemed a mercy to despatch her."
Van Diemen Land began to be colonized by Europeans, the losses sustained by the settlers by the ravages of the wild dogs were almost incredible. The districts infested by these animals were principally those appropriated to sheep, and there was scarcely a flock that did not suffer. It was in vain to double the number of shepherds, to watch by night and by day, or to have fires at every quarter of the fold; for these animals would accomplish their object by stratagem or by force. One colony lost no fewer than 1200 sheep and lambs in three months; another colony lost 700.
The ravagers were either the native wild dogs of the island, or those that had escaped from their owners. They seemed to have apportioned the country into different districts, each troop having its allotted range. At length the evil became so great that a general meeting of the colonists was convened. The concluding sentences of the speech of Lieutenant Hill forcibly express the extent of the evil.
"The country is free from bush-rangers: we are no longer surrounded and threatened by the natives. We have only one enemy left in the field; but that enemy strikes at the very root of our welfare, and through him the stream of our prosperity is tainted at its very source."
The colonists were then few, but they cordially united in the endeavour to extirpate this formidable enemy; and, although the wild dog is still found in the interior of the island, he is comparatively seldom seen, and his ravages have nearly ceased.