In Phayre's _History of Burma_ it is mentioned that "the loud,
deep-toned cries of the hoolook ape ... resound dismally in those dark
forest solitudes, and startle the traveller ..." (ch. xxii). They
would startle only those who did not recognise in the resounding
"Oo-oo-oos" the voices of harmless, primitive communities of hairy
little black men and women, called gibbons, the smallest of the apes
that closely resemble humanity. They are probably the strongest of us
all in the arms, in proportion to their size; for it is on their
agility in the trees that they depend to escape their enemies.
It was in an Upper Burman forest that one of them was noticed a few
years ago, pursued by a leopard, which had got between him and the
rest of the tribe. What handicapped the little black man--or was it a
woman?--was the bareness of the trees. If the trees had been more
thickly clad the spotted enemy could not have kept him in sight; but,
as it was, whenever the gibbon looked down, the leopard's eyes were on
him; and if he paused to rest, it seemed about to mount. "Oo-oo-oo!"
On, on, on he had to go, there was no rest for the gibbon. It was like
Dante's Hell. He cried pitifully, incessantly, "Oo-oo-oo," and his
kinsfolk answered him across the glen; but, what could they do? They
could no more mob a leopard than the swallows could. "Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo!"
If he could have rejoined them, however, he would have been safe; for
then the leopard could not have tired him out. So said the countrymen,
who explained the ways of "Mr Spots"; but in this instance the leopard
was able to keep between him and the rest. The intervening space was
increasing. Did the little man know some round-about way? "Oo-oo-oo!"
The others answered him, as if to say, "Cheer up! Here we are, waiting
for you!" "Oo-oo-oo!" His speed increased, as he went farther away, as
if he were growing nervous; and surely he had lost his head for a
moment when he put foot on the ground, passing a gap, thinking the
enemy far enough behind. The leopard was ready for that, and seized
him. Then, in that far corner of the glen, there was silence--the
silence of death.