Monkeys.--Hindoo opinions of their Nature.--Instances of their
sagacity.--Rooted animosity of the Monkey tribe to the
snake.--Cruelty to each other when maimed.--The female remarkable for
affection to its young.--Anecdotes descriptive of the belief of the
Natives in the Monkey being endowed with reason.--The Monkeys and the
Alligator.--The Traveller and the Monkeys.--The Hindoo and the
Monkey.
The Natives of India, more particularly the Hindoos, are accustomed to pay
particular attention to the habits of the varied monkey race, conceiving
them to be connecting links in the order of Nature between brutes and
rational creatures; or, as some imagine and assert, (without any other
foundation than conjecture and fancy), that they were originally a race of
human beings, who for their wicked deeds have been doomed to perpetuate
their disgrace and punishment to the end of time in the form and manner we
see them, inhabiting forests, and separated from their superior man.
I have had very few opportunities of acquainting myself with the general
principles of the Hindoo belief, but I am told, there are amongst them
those who assert that one of their deities was transformed to a particular
kind of monkey, since designated Hummoomaun,[1] after the object of their
adoration; whence arises the marked veneration paid by Hindoos of certain
sects to this class of monkeys.
The Natives firmly believe the whole monkey race to be gifted with reason
to a certain extent, never accounting for the sagacity and cunning they
are known to possess by instinctive habits; arguing from their own
observations, that the monkeys are peaceable neighbours, or inveterate
enemies to man, in proportion as their good will is cultivated by kindness
and hospitality, or their propensity to revenge roused by an opposite line
of conduct towards them.
The husbandman, whose land is in the vicinity of a forest, and the abode
of monkeys, secures safety to his crops, by planting a patch of ground
with that species of grain which these animals are known to prefer. Here
they assemble, as appetite calls, and feast themselves upon their own
allotment; and, as if they appreciated the hospitality of the landlord,
not a blade is broken, or a seed destroyed in the fields of corn to the
right and left of their plantation. But woe to the farmer who neglects
this provision; his fields will not only be visited by the marauders, but
their vengeance will be displayed in the wasteful destruction of his
cultivation. This undoubtedly looks more like reason than instinct; and if
credit could be given to half the extraordinary tales that are told of
them, the monkeys of India might justly be entitled to a higher claim than
that of instinct for their actions.
Monkeys seem to be aware that snakes are their natural enemies. They never
advance in pursuit of, yet they rarely run from a snake; unless its size
renders it too formidable an object for their strength and courage to
attack with anything like a prospect of success in destroying it. So great
is the animosity of the monkey race to these reptiles, that they attack
them systematically, after the following manner:--
When a snake is observed by a monkey, he depends on his remarkable agility
as a safeguard from the enemy. At the most favourable opportunity he
seizes the reptile just below the head with a firm grasp, then springs to
a tree, if available, or to any hard substance near at hand, on which he
rubs the snake's head with all his strength until life is extinct; at
intervals smelling the fresh blood as it oozes from the wounds of his
victim. When success has crowned his labour, the monkey capers about his
prostrate enemy, as if in triumph at the victory he has won; developing,
as the Natives say, in this, a striking resemblance to man.
Very few monkeys, in their wild state, ever recover from inflicted wounds;
the reason assigned by those who have studied their usual habits is, that
whenever a poor monkey has been wounded, even in the most trifling way,
his associates visit him by turns, when each visitor, without a single
exception, is observed to scratch the wound smartly with their nails. A
wound left to itself might be expected to heal in a short time, but thus
irritated by a successive application of their sharp nails, it inflames
and increases. Mortification is early induced by the heated atmosphere,
and death rapidly follows.
The monkeys' motives for adding to their neighbour's anguish, is accounted
for by some speculators on the score of their aversion to the unnatural
smell of blood; or they are supposed to be actuated by a natural
abhorrence to the appearance of the wound, not by any means against the
wounded; since in their domestic habits, they are considered to be
peaceable and affectionate in their bearings towards each other. The
strong will exercise mastery over the weak where food is scarce, but, in a
general way, they are by no means quarrelsome or revengeful amongst
themselves. They are known to hold by each other in defending rights and
privileges, if the accounts given by credible Natives be true, who add
that a whole colony of monkeys have been known to issue forth in a body to
revenge an injury sustained by an individual of their tribe; often firing
a whole village of chupha-roofs, where the aggressor is known to be a
resident, who in his anger may have maimed or chastised one of their
colony.
The female monkey is remarkable for her attachment to her progeny, which
she suckles until it is able to procure food for its own sustenance. When
one of her young dies, the mother is observed to keep it closely encircled
in her arms, moaning piteously with true maternal feelings of regret, and
never parting with it from her embrace until the dead body becomes an
offensive mass: and when at last she quits her hold, she lays it on the
ground before her, at no great distance, watching with intense anxiety the
dead body before her, which she can no longer fold in her embrace, until
the work of decomposing has altered the form of the creature that claimed
her tender attachment. What an example is here given to unnatural mothers
who neglect or forsake their offspring!
I shall here insert a few anecdotes illustrative of the opinions of the
Natives on the subject of monkeys being possessed of reasoning faculties.
They shall be given exactly as I have received them, not expecting my
readers will give to them more credit than I am disposed to yield to most
of these tales; but as they are really believed to be true by the Natives
who relate them, I feel bound to afford them a place in my work, which is
intended rather to describe men as they are, than men as I wish to see
them.
In the neighbourhood of Muttra is an immense jungle or forest, where
monkeys abound in great numbers and variety. Near a village bordering this
forest, is a large natural lake which is said to abound with every sort of
fish and alligators. On the banks of this lake are many trees, some of
which branch out a great distance over the water. On these trees monkeys
of a large description, called Lungoor,[2] gambol from spray to spray in
happy amusement: sometimes they crowd in numbers on one branch, by which
means their weight nearly brings the end of the bough to the surface of
the water; on which occasion it is by no means unusual for one or more of
their number to be lessened.
Whether the monkeys told their thoughts or not, my informant did not say,
but the retailers of this story assert, that the oldest monkey was aware
that his missing brethren had been seized by an alligator from the branch
of the tree, whilst they were enjoying their amusement. This old monkey,
it would seem, resolved on revenging the injury done to his tribe, and
formed a plan for retaliating on the common enemy of his race.
The monkeys were observed by the villagers, for many successive days,
actively occupied in collecting the fibrous bark of certain trees, which
they were converting into a thick rope. The novelty of this employment
surprised the peasants and induced them to watch daily for the result.
When the rope was completed, from sixty to seventy of the strongest
monkeys conveyed it to the tree: having formed a noose at one end with the
nicest care, the other end was secured by them to the overhanging arm of
the tree. This ready, they commenced their former gambols, jumping about
and crowding on the same branch which had been so fatal to many of their
brethren.
The alligator, unconscious of the stratagem thus prepared to secure him,
sprang from the water as the branch descended but instead of catching the
monkey he expected, he was himself caught in the noose; and the monkeys
moving away rather precipitately, the alligator was drawn considerably
above the surface of the water. The more he struggled the firmer he was
held by the noose; and here was his skeleton to be seen many years after,
suspended from the tree over the water, until time and the changes of
season released the blanched bones from their exalted situation, to
consign them to their more natural element in the lake below.
On one occasion, a Hindoo traveller on his way to Muttra, from his place
of residence, drew down the resentment of the monkeys inhabiting the same
forest, by his inattention to their well-known habits. The story is told
as follows:--
'The man was travelling with all his worldly wealth about his person: viz.,
fifty gold mohurs, (each nearly equal to two pounds in value[3]), and a
few rupees, the savings of many a year's hard service, which were secreted
in the folds of his turban; a good suit of clothes on his back; a few gold
ornaments on his neck and arms; and a bundle of sundries and cooking
vessels.
'The Hindoo was on foot, without companions, making his way towards the
home of his forefathers, where he hoped with his little treasury to be
able to spend his remaining years in peace with his family and friends,
after many years' toil and absence from his home. He stopped near to the
lake in question, after a long and fatiguing march, to rest himself
beneath the shade of the trees, and cook his humble meal of bread and
dhall. I ought here, perhaps, to say, that this class of Natives always
cook in the open air, and, if possible, near a river, or large body of
water, for the purpose of bathing before meals, and having water for
purifying their cooking utensils, &c.
'The man having undressed himself, and carefully piled his wardrobe
beneath the tree he had selected for shelter, went to the lake and bathed;
after which he prepared his bread, and sat himself down to dine. As soon
as he was comfortably seated, several large monkeys advanced and squatted
themselves at a respectful distance from him, doubtless expecting to share
in the good things he was enjoying. But, no: the traveller was either too
hungry or inhospitable, for he finished his meal, without tendering the
smallest portion to his uninvited visitors, who kept their station
watching every mouthful until he had finished.
'The meal concluded, the traveller gathered his cooking vessels together
and went to the bank of the lake, in order to wash them, as is customary,
and to cleanse his mouth after eating; his clothes and valuables were left
securely under the tree as he imagined,--if he thought at all about
them,--for he never dreamed of having offended the monkeys by eating all
he had cooked, without making them partakers. He was no sooner gone,
however, than the monkeys assembled round his valuables; each took
something from the collection; the oldest among them having secured the
purse of gold, away they ran to the tree over the very spot where the man
was engaged in polishing his brass vessels.
The Hindoo had soon completed his business at the lake, and unconscious of
their movements, he had returned to the tree, where to his surprise and
sorrow, he discovered his loss. Nearly frantic, the Hindoo doubted not
some sly thief had watched his motions and removed his treasures, when he
heard certain horrid yells from the monkeys which attracted his attention:
he returned hastily to the lake, and on looking up to the tree, he
discovered his enemies in the monkeys. They tantalized him for some time
by holding up the several articles to his view, and when the old monkey
shook the bag of gold, the poor man was in an agony; they then threw the
whole into the lake, the coins, one by one, were cast into the deep water,
where not a shadow of hope could be entertained of their restoration, as
the lake was deep and known to be infested with alligators.
'The man was almost driven mad by this unlooked-for calamity, by which he
was deprived of the many comforts his nursed treasure had so fairly
promised him for the remainder of life. He could devise no plan for
recovering his lost valuables, and resolved on hastening to the nearest
village, there to seek advice and assistance from his fellow-men; where
having related his unfortunate adventures, and declaring he had done
nothing to anger the creatures, he was asked if he had dined, and if so,
had he given them a share? He said, he had indeed cooked his dinner, and
observed the monkeys seated before him whilst he dined, but he did not
offer them any.
'"That, that, is your offence!" cried the villagers in a breath; "who
would ever think of eating without sharing his meal with men or with
animals? You are punished for your greediness, friend."--"Be it so," said
the traveller; "I am severely used by the brutes, and am now resolved on
punishing them effectually in return for the ill they have done me."
'He accordingly sold the gold ornaments from his arms and neck, purchased
a quantity of sugar, ghee, flour, and arsenic, returned to his old
quarters, prepared everything for cooking, and, in a short time, had a
large dish filled with rich-looking cakes, to tempt his enemies to their
own ruin.
'The feast was prepared in the presence of the assembled multitude of
monkeys. The Hindoo placed the dish before his guests, saying, "There, my
lords! your food is ready!" The old monkey advanced towards the dish, took
up a cake, raised it to his nose, and then returning it to the dish,
immediately ran off, followed by the whole of his associates into the
thick jungle.
'The man began to despair, and thought himself the most unlucky creature
existing; when, at length, he saw them returning with augmented numbers;
he watched them narrowly, and observed each monkey had a green leaf in his
paw, in which he folded a cake and devoured the whole speedily. The man
expected of course to see them sicken immediately, for the quantity of
arsenic he had used was sufficient, he imagined to have killed twenty
times their number. But, no: his stratagem entirely failed; for the leaf
they had provided themselves was an antidote to the poison put into their
food. The traveller thus sacrificed even that little which would have
carried him on his journey, had he been satisfied with his first loss; but
the Hindoo cherished a revengeful disposition, and thereby was obliged to
beg his way to his family.'
The next monkey story is equally marvellous, the Natives believe that it
actually occurred; I am disposed, however, to think all these stories were
originally fables to impress a moral upon the ignorant.
'Near a small town in the province of Oude there is a jungle of some
extent, inhabited by monkeys. A certain man of the Hindoo class, residing
in the town, resolved upon enjoying himself one day with a bottle of
arrack he had procured by stealth, and since it is well known that spirits
or fermented liquors are prohibited articles in the territories governed
by Mussulmaun rulers, the man betook himself with his treat to the
neighbouring jungle, where in private he might drink the spirit he loved,
and escape the vigilance of the police.
'Arriving at a convenient spot, the Hindoo seated himself under a tree,
prepared his hookha, drew from his wrapper the bottle of spirits, and a
small cup he had provided; and if ever he knew what happiness was in his
life, this moment was surely his happiest.
'He drank a cup of his liquor, smoked his hookha with increased relish,
and thought of nothing but his present enjoyment. Presently he heard the
sound of rustling in the trees, and in a few minutes after, a fine sturdy
monkey, of the Lungoor tribe, placed himself very near to him and his
bottle.
'The Hindoo was of a lively temper, and withal kindly disposed towards the
living, though not of his own species. Having a cake of dry bread in his
waistband, he broke off a piece and threw it to his visitor; the monkey
took the bread and sniffed at the cup. "Perhaps you may like to taste as
well as to smell," thought the Hindoo, as he poured out the liquor into
the cup, and presented it to his guest.
'The monkey raised the cup with both paws to his mouth, sipped of its
contents, winked his eyes, appeared well satisfied with the flavour, and
to the surprise of the Hindoo, finished the cup, which was no sooner done,
than away he sprang up the tree again.
'"Had I known you would run away so soon, my guest, I should have spared
my arrack;" thought the Hindoo. But the monkey quickly returned to his old
position, threw down a gold mohur to his entertainer, and sat grinning
with apparent satisfaction. The Hindoo, astonished at the sight of gold,
thought to repay his benefactor by another cup of spirits, which he placed
before the monkey, who drank it off, and again mounted the tree, and
shortly returned with a second gold mohur.
'Delighted with the profit his arrack produced, the Hindoo drank sparingly
himself, for each time the monkey took a cup, a gold mohur was produced,
until the man counted eight of these valuable coins on his palm. By this
time, however, the monkey was completely overcome by the strength of his
potations, and lay apparently senseless before the Hindoo, who fancied now
was his turn to mount the tree, where he found, on diligent search, in a
hollow place, a small bag of gold mohurs, with which he walked off,
leaving the monkey prostrate on the earth.
'The Hindoo determined on going some distance from his home, in a
different direction, fearing his secret treasure might be the means of
drawing him into difficulties amongst the people of his own town, who had
probably been robbed by the monkey at some previous period.
'In the meanwhile the monkey is supposed to have recovered from his stupor,
and the next morning on discovering his loss, he set up a horrid yell,
which brought together all his fellow-inhabitants of the jungle; and some
neighbouring villagers saw an immense number of monkeys of all sorts and
sizes, collected together in a body. The story runs that this army of
monkeys was headed by the one who had recovered from his drunken fit, and
that they marched away from the jungle in pursuit of the robber.
'Their first march was to the adjacent village, where every house was
visited in turn by the monkeys, without success; no one ever venturing to
obstruct or drive away the intruders, fearing their resentment. After
which they sallied out of the village to the main road, minutely looking
for footsteps, as a clue, on the sandy pathway; and by this means
discovering the track of the Hindoo, they pursued the road they had
entered throughout the day and night. Early in the morning of the
following day, the monkeys advanced to the serai (inn, or halting place
for travellers) soon after the Hindoo himself had quitted it, who had
actually sojourned there the previous night.
'On the road, when the horde of monkeys met any traveller, he was detained
by them until the chief of them had scrutinized his features, and he was
then liberated on finding he was not the person they were in pursuit of.
After having marched nearly forty miles from their home, they entered one
of the halting places for travellers, where the Hindoo was resting after
his day's journey.
'The monkey having recognized the robber, immediately grasped him by the
arm, and others entering, the frightened robber was searched, the purse
discovered in his wrapper, which the chief monkey angrily seized, and then
counted over its contents, piece by piece. This done, finding the number
correct, the monkey selected eight pieces, and threw them towards the
Hindoo; and distributing the remaining number of gold mohurs amongst the
monkeys, who placed each his coin in the hollow of his cheek, the whole
body retired from the serai to retrace their steps to the jungle.'
[1] Hanuman, the divine monkey of the Ramayana epic, who helped
Rama to recover his abducted wife, Sita.
[2] _Langur, Semnopithecus entellus_.
[3] Now worth a little more than a sovereign.