Animal Chums.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIX, Issue 23, 4 June 1913, Page 51

Animal Chums.

In the New York Hippodrome a short time ago, a remarkable friendship existed between a baby elephant and a large boar-hound, both belonging to Mr. George Power. The dog was in the habit of going regularly every morning to a butcher’s shop dose by the Hippodrome, where the butcher would give him a goodly pareel of bones and scraps of meat wrapped in brown paper. The dog would go straight home to the Hippodrome, lay the parcel down in front of the little elephant, and wait patiently until the young animal had turned out the contents on the floor. Not earing for meat, he would blow at it with his little trunk, and then take no further notice of it. This was the moment when the hoarhound would come forward and take it all up again—bone by bone and Scrap by scrap—carry it over to his own kennel, and then make a good breakfast at his ease. But he was never once known to attempt to eat it without first offering it to his little f riend. Also, when he had cake or biscuit, the dog would offer it first to the young elephant. But this was a different matter. Not a bite or scrap did the little elephant give back to his faithful friend. Once or twice, when watching them. I was amused to see that the dog, after waiting patiently and watching the other’s enjoyment, would very cautiously put one paw forward as though to take a. little bit of the dainty. But at the least sign of such an action, the little elephant would lift up his trunk and his voice, and trumpet his loudest, vastly indignant that the dog should try to get any. And then the funniest thing was to watch the dog’s expression! A most peculiar friendship has existed for several years between one of the giraffes and a bantam rooster at the Barnum and Bailey' circus. The little rooster, self-satisfied and conceited as all bantams are, always stays just outside the giraffe’s enclosure, sometimes strutting along the ground, or else sitting on the railing, crowing at all sorts of times, byNday and night. The giraffe will look down on him, watch him crowing, and once in a while try to reach him with bis long, black tongue. At other times, the rooster will fly up and sit on the giraffe’s back or sloping neck, and crow there! As a general rule, giraffes are terribly •nervous., sensitive creatures, and some would be terrified at the unusualness of smelt a thing, but this giraffe takes it all quietly, turns his head and looks at the bantam with his large, beautiful eyes, puts out his tongue, which the rooster dodges most skilfully, and takes no further notice, no matter how many times he crows, or how many times he tumbles off the giraffe’s sloping neck and flies up again—all in the noisy, fussy manner that all bantams have. The cute of wild animals rarely become friendly with one another. As a rule, they fight so fiercely and vindictively that, unless separated, one or the other is eventually killed. But in tile Dubini Zoological Gardens in Ireland, two little lion cubs and two little tiger cubs are on the most friendly terms, and play together as though they were all of one family. This same sort of thing was found in the Amsterdam Zoological Gardena a short time ago. A tiger cub ami a puma cub lived together in tho most perfect harmony for months. But when, with increasing age, their natural, fierce instincts asserted themselves, anil they showed signs of quarrelling, to prevent any chance of an accident, they were separated before they had an actual fight.— Miss Helen Velvin, in the “St. Nicholas Magazine.”