ZOO MUSIC

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 326, 11 April 1928, Page 9

ZOO MUSIC

Mountain Squeaks to Recording Musician TIGERS SNORE HORRIBLY A mountain of flesh sat up on its end, waving its trunk. “Sing, Jamuna,” said the keeper encouragingly. And before the assembled musicians and pressmen, who expected the song of a maddened herd the mountain raised its head and squeaked two notes like the “Moik—moik” of a penny squeaker-balloon. r FO Get realistic musical accompaniment for the moving picture, “Chang/' an expedition was sent to the Zoo this morning. Mr. Leslie V. Harvey, the organist at the Regent, was the main record, for he has to make the Wurlitzer yelp and roar and thunder in appropriate moments. Hence the visit tc the elephant Jamuna, who, in particularly docile mood, did her tricks and squeaked when she was told. “It seems that’s hardly the right noise for a maddened herd of elephants to make.’* said Mr. Harvey. So Superintendent Aldridge pleaded with Jamuna to “do her stuff” as though she’d never seen an enclosed paddock. He even attempted to intimidate her with a bright barbed steel; he gave her a drink. Then, luckily the baker’s delivery van chugged up. Jamuna tried frantically to open the door and then, as the van drove away, she raised her voice in a long, throbbing trumpet of petulance. “That’s it,” said Mr. Harvey, noting feverishly. “It’s like the bellow of a bull with a rasp in it.”

“She doesn’t like the sound of that engine,” said Mr. Aldridge, and Jamuna began to register her annoyance by making a young shell hole in the lawn with one foot and blowing the dust over her back with her trunk. THE TIGERS SNORED

The close-up of a charging tiger in “Chang” needed a lifelike noise, and so Mr. Harvey was lured into a pit between the cages of the Malay and the Bengal tigers. Keeper Hurley tossed a piece of meat to Mrs. Tiger and the duet began. With lightning in his eyes, the Malay snored a hymn of hate, punctuated with a cough which was an incipient thunder-clap, and the Bengal who had the steak replied with a magnificent menacing purr. Mr. Harvey decided that the tiger “snored like a human being, very low and in fourths.” Norrie, the leopard refused to do anything more than sigh when Keeper Hurley scratched his nose. He was feeling restless. According to Mr. Aldridge he is capable of a much larger “meow.” The black bears begged for buns. Occasionally one would sneeze like a gas engine missing fire. “They only war when one chases the other,” said Mr. Aldridge. BABOONS ARE HOSTILE

So to the chatter of the monkeys. A capuchin, a real organ grinder’s monkey, put his hand in his mouth and made a startling bird-like call. Afterwards he shook hands all round. Jean, the young Gelado baboon, whimpered a little, evidently complaining about the zoo fare. Then she searched the keeper’s arm. Those terrible creatures, the mantled, sacred or dog-faced baboon, made a distinctly hostile but silent demonstration. “Scotty,” the father, barked twice, and began to reflect on the fallen dignity of his race, once held sacred by the Egyptians, and consecrated to the god Thath. Then he turned his back and yawned, showing a nasty mouth of yellow teeth. Mr. Reg. Kelly, publicity manager for Paramount, and Mr. W. E. Kirby, Paramount’s local manager, stagemanaged the tests.