REMINISCENCES FROM THE MELBOURNE ZOO. 
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feet above the ground. She hatched a number of broods, averaging 
eleven or twelve at a time. As soon as they were two or three days 
old — she never left them up there longer — she brought them down to 
the bank of the pond in two or three batches. They were poised on the 
middle of her back between the shoulders, which she almost cupped by 
holding her wings rigidly hunched up. She did not fly down, but vol- 
planed to earth, steadying her ducklings most carefully as she sank. 
IVhen one batch was placed on the bank, she returned for the second, 
and placed them beside the others. When the last were brought down, 
she marshalled them all to water, but the odd thing was that none of 
the first to arrive attempted to move until all were safely landed. They 
seemed to know that they must wait until the transportation of the whole 
family was completed before making a ntove towards the water. Had 
this bird left the moving of her brood to chance, or thrown them out, 
they must have fallen among thick blackberries and other brambles, 
which made such a tangled undergrowth that there would have been 
little chance of one escaping from it alive. The mother swan may often 
be seen swimming with her cygnets on her back in precisely the way this 
duck carried her young ones down. 
Though this particular bird was not naturally a flier, she was more 
often seen on the roofs of houses or cages than on the ground. She was 
unpinioned, and was allowed perfect liberty to go where she pleased. 
After the pigeon house was removed, she philosophically built her nests 
on the ground like the other ducks in her company. 
DINGOES 
A MAD DINGO. 
In the days when the Zoo was young somebody brought a dingo 
puppy there as a present for the infant collection. A boy who worked 
there at once asked for and received permission to rear the little thing, 
and it grew up into a very handsome animal, as quiet and as teachable 
as a collie. It learned to jump through a hoop, to bound over sticks, to 
sit up and beg, and to do numerous other doggy tricks ; and it followed 
its young master about the gardens like a well-trained dog. But one 
evil day a goose or a duck was killed, and rightly or wrongly — it is still 
believed rightly — the culprit was presumed to be the dingo. Since there 
was no positive evidence against him the charge had to be dismissed 
‘Not Proven but to avoid any repetition of such accidents, it was 
