REMINISCENCES FROM THE MELBOURNE ZOO. 
183 
As soon as he can struggle to his feet again the beaten one thinks it no 
shame to run away. He goes to find a place of refuge, and somehow the 
other seems to have the mediaeval notion of “sanctuary,” for he never 
attempts to go into this hiding place to continue the fight. One unusual 
thing about their quarrels is that the cause of the dispute is very quickly 
forgotten. They might fight almost to the death one day ; next morning 
they will feed contentedly out of the same box together as though there 
had never been a ruffle in their relationships. 
MORE THAN SATISFIED. 
Time was when there was a notice affixed to the llama’s fence, stat- 
ing “Beware of this animal: it spits.” This notice had to be taken 
down, because every second person who passed that way wanted to see 
him spit, and his life was made unbearable by the teasing he got in order 
to make him do it. Once he did spit, there was a group of people that 
never again teased him to get a second exhibition ; but there was always 
a succession of visitors who never had seen him spit, and who “would 
not be happy till they got it.” It came to such a stage that as soon 
as the old llama saw a person with an umbrella he prepared his weapon 
of defence, and so many an innocent victim suffered for the guilty. One 
day several well-dressed women passed that way in all the beauty of early 
summer array. One was in dainty white from top to toe, and she looked 
too attractive to be capable of cruelty to anything living. She saw the 
notice on the fence and spoke to a keeper standing near. 
“Oh, couldn’t you make this animal spit for us? I’d just love to 
see him do it!” 
“No, you wouldn’t, ma’am,” was the reply. 
“Oh, but I would! Please make him do it!” 
“If you saw him do it once you’d never want to see it again, I 
promise you. It’s horrible.” 
“But, really, we’d give anything to see it! We’ve never seen such 
a thing in our lives!” 
The man again warned them of the unpleasantness of the perform- 
ance, and then had to move off. The lady in white decided to stir up 
the animal on her own account. She closed her dainty white parasol 
and used it as a goad for the quietly ruminating llama. He endured it 
with marvellous patience for a while, and then, when he saw she was 
determined to test his powers, he rose languidly and sprayed a great 
shower of the vile-smelling green semi-solid, semi-fluid, cud all over her. 
From the crown of her hat to her pretty shoes she was covered with these 
minute particles of half-digested food that smelt as if they had come direct 
from a boiling-down works, and her fun changed in the twinkling of an 
