686 GIRAFFES. 
Large as is the animal, it can contract the tip of its tongue into so small a compass that 
it can pass into the pipe of an ordinary pocket-key, while its prehensile powers enable its 
owner to pluck any selected leaf with perfect ease. In captivity the Giraffe is rather apt 
to make too free a use of its tongue, such as twitching the artificial flowers and foliage 
from ladies’ bonnets, or any similar freak. 
For grazing upon level ground the Giraffe is peculiarly unfitted, and never attempts 
that feat exe epting when urged by hunger or some very pressing cause. It is, however, 
perfectly capable of bringing its mouth to the eround, although with considerable effort 
and much straddling of the fore- legs. By placing a lump of sugar on the ground, the 
Giraffe may be induced to lower its head to the earth, and to exhibit some of that 
curious mixture of erace and awkwardness which characterises this singular animal. 
In its native country its usual food consists of the leaves ofa kind of acacia, named the 
Kameel-dorn, or Camel-thorn (Acacéa giraffe). The animal is exceedinely fastidious in its 
appetite, and carefully rejects every thorn, scrupulously plucking only the freshest and 
greenest leaves. When supplied with cut grass, the Giraffe takes each blade daintily between 
its lips, and nibbles gradually from the top to the stem, after the manner in which we eat 
asparagus. As soon as it has eaten the tender and green portion of the grass, it rejects 
the remainder as unfit for camelopardine consumption. Hay, carrots, onions, and different 
vegetables form its principal diet while it is kept in a state of captivity. 
The Giraffe is a gentle and playful animal, readily attaching itself to its companions 
or its keepers, and trying to attract attention by sundry little coquetries. It is full of 
curiosity, and seems to be greatly gratified by the advent of many visitors, whose costume 
and general appearance it investigates with an air of great interest. There is something 
peculiarly mild and pleasant in the full, round, dark eye of the Giraffe, whose gaze is 
really fascinating to those who feel attracted by a mild and gentle expression of soul. 
Even the ruthless hunter has felt himself overcome by the glances of the Giraffe’s dark 
expressive eye, as the poor animal lay unresistingly and silently on the ground, watching 
its pene er with reproachful but not vengeful gaze, 
As far as is at present known, the Giraffe is a silent animal, like the cland and the 
kangaroo, and has never been heard to utter a sound, even when struggling i in the agonies 
of death. When in its native land it is so strongly perfumed with the folie age on which it 
chiefly feeds, that it exhales a powerful odour, which is compared by Captain Cumming 
to the scent of a hive of heather honey. 
Although an inoffensive and most gentle creature, it is not destitute of aggressive 
capabilities, and can defend itself against ordinary foes, such as the predaceous carnivora 
which inhabit the same land. In defending itself it does not bring its head within reach 
of its enemy, but delivers a shower of kicks with such lightness and celerity, that it has 
been known even to daunt the lion from the attack. W Ren however, the lion can steal 
unobserved upon the Giraffe, anc especially when it unites with others of its own race in 
the pursuit of the huge prey, it brings down the Giraffe by dint of sheer bodily strength 
and sharpness of tooth and claw. 
To man it falls an easy prey, especially if it can be kept upon level ground, where a 
horse can run without danger. On rough soil, however, the Giraffe has by far the 
advantage, as it leaps easily over the various obstacles that le im its way, and gets over 
the eround i in a curiously agile manner, It is not a very swift animal, as it can easily be 
overtaken by a horse of ordinary speed, and is frequently run down by native hunters on 
foot. When running, it progresses in a very awkward and almost ludicrous manner, by 
a series of frog-like leaps, its tail switching and twisting about at regular intervals, and 
its long neck rocking stiffly up and down in a manner that irresistibly reminds the 
observer of those toy ate, whose heads and tails perform alternate obeisances by the 
swinging of a weight below. As the tail is switched sharply hither and thither, the tuft 
of pee hairs at the extremity makes a hissing sound as it passes through the air. 
The Giraffe is easily traced by its “spoor,” or footmarks, which are eleven inches in 
length, pointed at the toe and rounded at the heel. The pace at which the animal has 
gone is ascertained by the depth of the impression, and by the scattering of disturbed 
soil along the path, 
