APES AND MONKEYS.
The Forest Life of the Simiæ--Excellent Climbers, Bad Pedestrians--
Similitude and Difference between the Human Race and the Ape--
The Chimpanzee--Chim in Paris--The Gorilla--The Uran--The
Gibbons--The Proboscis Monkey--The Huniman--The Wanderoo--
The Cercopithecus--A Plundering Party--Parental Affection of
a Cercopithecus--The Maimon--‘Happy Jerry’--The Pig-faced
Baboon--The Derryas--Wide Difference between the Monkeys of both
Hemispheres--Distinctive Characters of the American Monkeys--The
Stentor Monkey--The Spider Monkeys--The Saïmiri--Friendships
between various kinds of Monkeys--Nocturnal Monkeys--Squirrel
Monkeys--Their Lively Intelligence--The Loris and Makis.
In the midst of tropical vegetation, the Simiæ lead a free forest-life,
for which they might well be envied. The green canopy of the woods
protects them at every season of the year from the burning rays of
a vertical sun, flowers of delicious fragrance embalm the air they
breathe, and an endless supply of fruits and nuts never allows them
to know want, for should the stores near at hand be exhausted, an easy
migration to some other district soon restores them to abundance.
With an agility far surpassing that with which the sailor ascends the
rigging, and climbs even to the giddy top of the highest mast, they
leap from bush-rope to bush-rope, and from bough to bough, mocking the
tiger-cat and the boa, which are unable to follow them in their rapid
evolutions. Formed to live on trees, and not upon the ground, they are
as excellent climbers as they are bad pedestrians. Both their fore and
hind-feet are shaped as hands, generally with four fingers and a thumb,
so that they can seize or grasp a bough with all alike.
Buffon erroneously remarks of the chimpanzee, that he always walks
erect, even when carrying a weight; but this ape, as well as the other
anthropomorphous simiæ, proves by the slowness and awkwardness of his
movements, when by chance he walks upon even ground, that this position
is by no means natural to him, or congenial to his organisation.
Man alone of all creatures, possesses an upright walk; the ape, on
the contrary, always stoops, and not to lose his equilibrium when
walking, is obliged to place his hands upon the back of his head,
or on his loins. Thus, in his native wilds, he rarely has recourse
to this inconvenient mode of progression, and when forced by some
chance or other to quit the trees, he leans while walking upon the
finger-knuckles of his anterior extremities, a position which in fact,
very much resembles walking on all-fours.
It is, indeed, only necessary to compare the long, robust, and muscular
arms of the chimpanzee with his weaker and shorter hind-feet, to be at
once convinced that he was never intended for walking. But see with,
what rapidity, with what power and grace, he moves from branch to
branch, his hind-legs serving him only as hold-fasts, while his chief
strength is in his arms. The tree is, without all doubt, for him what
the earth is for us, the air for the bird, or the water for the fish.
The simiæ of the Old World are all distinguished by the common
character of a narrow partition of the nose like that of man, and by
the same number of teeth, each jaw being provided with ten grinders,
two canine teeth, and four incisors, as in the human race. The large
apes, or tailless monkeys, resemble us besides in many other respects,
as well in their external appearance as in their anatomical structure;
and form, as it were, the caricature of man, both by their gestures and
by glimpses of a higher intelligence.
Creatures so remarkably endowed have naturally at all times attracted
a great share of attention, for if even the lowest links in the chain
of animated beings lay claim to our interest, how much more must this
be the case with beings whose faculties seem almost to raise them
to the rank of our relations. The question how far this similarity
extends has naturally given rise to many acute investigations and
been differently answered, according as naturalists were more or less
inclined to depress man to the level of the ape, or to widen the gulf
between them. The former, pointing to the brutality of the lowest
savages, would willingly make us believe that we are nothing but an
improved edition of the Uran, while the latter cite in favour of their
opinion, the incommensurable distance which exists between even the
most degraded specimens of humanity and the most perfect quadrumana.
Man alone is capable of continually progressive improvement; in him
alone each generation inherits the acquirements of its fathers, and
transmits the growing treasure to its sons, while the ape, like all
other animals, constantly remains at the same point. The lowest savage
knows how to make fire; the ape, though he may have seen the operation
performed a thousand times, and have enjoyed the genial warmth of the
glowing embers, will never learn the simple art. His hairy skin is a
sufficient proof of his low intellect, an infallible sign that as he
never would be able to provide himself with an artificial clothing,
Nature was obliged to protect him against the inclemencies of the cold
nights and the pouring rain. As man advances in age, his mind acquires
a greater depth and a wider range. In the ape, on the contrary, signs
of a livelier intelligence are only exhibited during youth, and as
the animal waxes in years, its physiognomy acquires a more brutal
expression; its forehead recedes, its jaws project, and instead of
expanding to a higher perfection, its mental faculties are evidently
clouded by a premature decline.
Both in Africa and Asia, we find large anthropomorphous apes, but while
the Chimpanzee and the Gorilla exclusively belong to the African wilds,
the Uran and the Gibbons are confined to the torrid regions of South
Asia.
The Chimpanzee (_Simia troglodytes_) attains a height of about five
feet, but seems much smaller from his stooping attitude. He inhabits
the dense forests on the west coast of Africa, particularly near the
river Gaboon, and as his travels are facilitated by his fatherland not
being too far distant from Europe, there is hardly a Zoological Garden
of any note that does not exhibit a chimpanzee among its lions. One
of the finest specimens ever seen was kept a few years since in the
Jardin des Plantes in Paris, where the mild climate, agreeable diet (he
drank his pint of Bordeaux daily), and lively society of the French
maintained him in wonderful health and spirits.
‘The last time I saw him’ (May 1854), says an accomplished
naturalist,[40] ‘he came out to inhale the morning air in the large
circular inclosure in front of the monkey palace, which was built for
our poor relations by M. Thiers. Here Chim began his day by a leisurely
promenade, casting pleased and thankful glances towards the sun, the
beautiful sun of early summer.
[Illustration: RUFOUS COATIMONDI]
‘He had three satellites, Coatimondis, either by chance or to amuse
him, and while making all manner of eyes at a young lady, who supplied
the _Singerie_ with pastry and cakes, one of the coatimondis came up
stealthily behind, and dealt him a small but malicious bite. Chim
looked round with astonishment at this audacious outrage on his person,
and put his hand hastily upon the wound, but without losing his temper
in the least. He walked deliberately to the other side of the circle,
and fetched a cane which he had dropped in his promenade. He returned
with majestic wrath upon his brow, mingled, I thought, with contempt,
and taking coati by the tail, commenced punishment with his cane,
administering such blows as his victim could bear without permanent
injury, and applied with equal justice on the ribs at either side. When
he thought enough had been done, he disposed of coati, without moving
a muscle of his countenance, by a left-handed jerk, which threw the
delinquent high in air, head over heels.
‘He came down a sadder and a better coati, and retired with shame and
fear to a distant corner. Having executed this act of justice, Chim
betook himself to a tree. A large baboon, who had in the meantime made
his appearance in the circle, thought this was a good opportunity of
doing a civil thing, and accordingly mounted the tree, and sat down
smilingly, as baboons smile, upon the next fork. Chim slowly turned his
head at this attempt at familiarity, measured the distance, raised his
hind foot, and as composedly as he had caned the coati, kicked the big
baboon off his perch into the arena below. This abasement seemed to do
the baboon good, for he also retired like the coati, and took up his
station on the other side.’
The body of the chimpanzee is covered with long hair on the head,
shoulders, and back, but much thinner on the breast and belly. The
arms and legs are not so disproportionate as those of the uran, the
fore-fingers not quite touching the knees when the animal stands
upright. The upper part of the head is very flat, with a retiring
forehead, and a prominent bony ridge over the eye-brows, the mouth is
wide, the ears large, the nose flat, and the face of a blackish-brown
colour.
From this short notice it will be seen at once that friend Chim has
not the least claim to beauty, but yet he is far from equalling the
hideous deformity of the Gorilla, whom M. Du Chaillu has so prominently
introduced to public notice. This savage animal, which is covered with
black hair like the chimpanzee, and resembles it in the proportion of
its body and limbs, though its form is much more robust, unites a most
ferocious and undaunted temper with an herculean bodily strength, and
is said to hold undisputed dominion of the hill-forests in the interior
of Lower Guinea, forcing even the panther to ignominious flight.
To kill a gorilla is considered by the negroes as a most courageous
exploit; and Dr. Savage, an American missionary on the coast of Guinea,
who, in a memoir published at Boston in the year 1847, was the first
to point out the generic differences between this formidable ape and
the chimpanzee, tells us that a slave having shot a male and female
gorilla, whose skeletons afterwards came into his possession, was
immediately set at liberty and proclaimed the prince of hunters.
M. Du Chaillu’s description of his first encounter with an adult
gorilla, shows that this distinction was by no means unmerited, and
that it requires all the coolness and determination of an accomplished
sportsman to face an animal of such appalling ferocity and power. ‘The
under-bush swayed rapidly just ahead, and presently before us stood an
immense male gorilla. He had gone through the jungle on his all-fours,
but when he saw our party he erected himself, and looked us boldly
in the face. He stood about a dozen yards from us, and was a sight I
think I shall never forget. Nearly six feet high (he proved four inches
shorter), with immense body, huge chest, and great muscular arms,
with fiercely glaring, large deep-grey eyes, and a hellish expression
of face, which seemed to me like some night-mare vision; thus stood
before us the king of the African forest. He was not afraid of us. He
stood there and beat his breast with his huge fists, till it resounded
like an immense bass-drum, which is their mode of offering defiance,
meantime giving vent to roar after roar. The roar of the gorilla is the
most singular and awful noise heard in these African woods. It begins
with a sharp bark like an angry dog, then glides into a deep bass roll
which literally and closely resembles the roll of distant thunder along
the sky, for which I have been sometimes tempted to take it when I did
not see the animal. So deep is it that it seems to proceed less from
the mouth and throat than from the deep chest and vast paunch. His eyes
began to flash deeper fire as we stood motionless on the defensive, and
the crest of short hair which stands on his forehead began to twitch
rapidly up and down, while his powerful fangs were shown as he again
sent forth a thunderous roar.
‘And now truly he reminded me of nothing but some hellish
dream-creature; a being of that hideous order, half-man, half-beast,
which we find pictured by old artists in some representations of the
infernal regions. He advanced a few steps, then stopped to utter that
hideous roar again, advanced again, and finally stopped when at a
distance of about six yards from us. And here, just as he began another
of his roars, beating his breast in rage, we fired and killed him. With
a groan which had something terribly human in it, and yet was full of
brutishness, he fell forward on his face. The body shook convulsively
for a few minutes, the limbs moved about in a struggling way, and
then all was quiet--death had done its work, and I had leisure to
examine the huge body. It proved to be five feet eight inches high, and
the muscular development of the arms and breast showed what immense
strength he had possessed.’
Deep in the swampy forests of Sumatra and Borneo, lives the famous
Uran, or ‘Mias’ as he is called by the Malays. He is less human in his
shape than the chimpanzee, as his hind-legs are shorter and his arms so
long that they reach to his ankles, but in intelligence he is supposed
to be his superior. The jaws are more projecting, and the thick pouting
lips add to the brutal expression of his physiognomy. While in a
well-proportioned human face the distance from the chin to the nose
forms but a third of the total length, it amounts to one-half in the
uran. But little of the restlessness of the monkey is to be seen in
him. He loves an indolent repose, and the necessity for procuring food
seems alone capable of rousing him from his laziness. When satiated, he
immediately resumes his favourite position, sitting for hours together
upon a branch, with bent back, with eyes immovably staring upon the
ground, and uttering from time to time a melancholy growl. He generally
spends the night on the crown of a nibong-palm or of a screw pine: he
often also seeks a refuge against the wind and cold among the orchids
and ferns which cover the branches of the giant trees. There he spreads
his couch of small twigs and leaves, for he distinguishes himself
from all other apes by his not sleeping in a sitting position, but on
the back or on one side, and in inclement weather he is even said to
cover his body with a layer of foliage. The Dyaks affirm that the Mias
is never attacked by other animals, except by the crocodile and the
tiger-snake. When there are no fruits in the jungle, he goes to the
river banks, where he finds many young shoots which he likes to eat,
and fruits which grow near to the water. Then the crocodile sometimes
tries to seize him, but the Mias springs upon it, lacerates and kills
it. An old Dyak chieftain told Mr. Wallace that he had once witnessed
a combat of this kind, in which the Mias is invariably the conqueror.
When attacked by a tiger-snake, he seizes the reptile with his hands
and kills it with a vigorous bite. The Mias is very strong, stronger
than any other animal of the jungle.
Rajah Brooke, who observed the sluggish Urans in their wild state,
relates that even when chased and alarmed by the shouts of men and
the firing, they never went from tree to tree faster than a man might
easily follow through the jungle below. In general they sought the very
summit of a lofty tree, and often remained seated without changing
their position whilst several shots were discharged at them. The Dyaks
catch them in the following manner. Having discovered the animal in a
tree, they approach without disturbing him, and as quickly as possible
cut down all the trees around the one he is in. Being previously
provided with poles, some with nooses attached to the ends and others
forked, they fell the isolated tree, and noosing and forking down the
uran, soon make him their captive.
The series of the large anthropomorphous apes closes with the Gibbons.
Their arms, which reach to the ankle joints when the animal is standing
erect, are longer than those of the uran; their brain, and consequently
their intelligence, is less developed; and moreover, like all the
following simiæ of the Old World, they possess callosities on each side
of the tail. Their size is inferior to that of the uran, and their body
is covered with thicker hair, grey, brown, black, or white--according
to the species--but never party-coloured, as is the case with many of
the long-tailed monkeys.
To the gibbons belong the black Siamang of Sumatra--who, assembled in
large troops, hails the first blush of early morn, and bids farewell
to the setting sun with dreadful clamours--the black, white-bearded
Lar of Siam and Malacca, and the Wou-Wou (_Hylobates leuciscus_), who,
hanging suspended by his long arms, and swinging to and fro in the air,
allows one to approach within fifty yards, and then, suddenly dropping
upon a lower branch, climbs again leisurely to the top of the tree. He
is a quiet, solitary creature of a melancholy peaceful nature, pursuing
a harmless life, feeding upon fruits in the vast untrodden recesses
of the forest; and his peculiar noise is in harmony with the sombre
stillness of these dim regions, commencing like the gurgling of water
when a bottle is being filled, and ending with a long loud wailing cry,
which resounds throughout the leafy solitude to a great distance, and
is sometimes responded to from the depths of the forest by another note
as wild and melancholy.
Besides the uran and the gibbons, Asia exclusively possesses the
Semnopitheci and the Macaques, while Africa, besides the chimpanzee
and the gorilla, enjoys the undivided honour of giving birth to the
families of the Cercopitheci, Mangabeys, Colobi, Magots, and Baboons.
The Semnopitheci are characterised by a short face, rounded ears, a
slender body, short thumbs, and a strong muscular tail, terminated
by a close tuft of hair, and surpassing in length that of all
the other quadrumana of the Old World. To this genus belongs the
celebrated Proboscis Monkey (_Semnopithecus nasicus_) of Borneo,
who is distinguished from all other simiæ by the possession of a
prominent nasal organ, which lends a highly ludicrous expression to
the melancholy aspect of his physiognomy. ‘When excited and angry,’
says Mr. Adams, who had many opportunities of examining this singular
creature in its native woods, ‘the female resembles some tanned and
peevish, hag, snarling and shrewish. They progress on all-fours, and
sometimes, while on the ground, raise themselves upright and look about
them. When they sleep, they squat on their hams, and bow their heads
upon the breast. When disturbed, they utter a short impatient cry,
between a sneeze and a scream, like that of a spoilt and passionate
child; and in the selection of their food they appear very dainty,
frequently destroying a fruit, and hardly tasting it. When they emit
their peculiar wheezing or hissing sound, they avert and wrinkle the
nose, and open the mouth wide. In the male, the nose is a curved,
tubular trunk, large, pendulous, and fleshy; but in the female it is
smaller, recurved, and not caruncular.’
Under the ugly form of the Huniman (_Semnopithecus Entellus_), the
Hindoos venerate the transformed hero who abstracted the sweet fruit of
the mango from the garden of a giant in Ceylon, and enriched India with
the costly gift. Out of gratitude for this service, the Hindoos allow
him the free use of their gardens, and take great care to protect him
from sacrilegious Europeans. While the French naturalist Duvaucel was
at Chandernagor, a guard of pious Brahmins was busy scaring away the
sacred animals with cymbals and drums, lest the stranger, to whom they
very justly attributed evil intentions, might be tempted to add their
skins to his collection.
The Semnopitheci are scattered over Asia in so great a multiplicity
of forms, that Ceylon alone possesses four different species, each of
which has appropriated to itself a different district of the wooded
country, and seldom encroaches on the domain of its neighbours. ‘When
observed in their native wilds,’ says Sir J. E. Tennent, ‘a party of
twenty or thirty of the Wanderoos of the low country, the species
best known in Europe (_Presbytes cephalopterus_), is generally busily
engaged in the search for berries and buds. They are seldom to be seen
on the ground, and then only when they have descended to recover seeds
or fruit that have fallen at the foot of their favourite trees. In
their alarm, when disturbed, their leaps are prodigious, but generally
speaking their progress is made not so much by _leaping_ as by swinging
from branch to branch, using their powerful arms alternately, and when
baffled by distance, flinging themselves obliquely so as to catch the
lower bough of an opposite tree; the momentum acquired by their descent
being sufficient to cause a rebound, that carries them again upwards
till they can grasp a higher branch, and thus continue their headlong
flight. In these perilous achievements wonder is excited less by the
surpassing agility of these little creatures, frequently encumbered as
they are by their young, which cling to them in their career, than by
the quickness of their eye and the unerring accuracy with which they
seem to calculate almost the angle at which a descent would enable them
to cover a given distance, and the recoil to elevate themselves again
to a higher altitude.’
The African Colobi greatly resemble the Asiatic Semnopitheci, but
differ by the remarkable circumstance of having no thumb on the hands
of their anterior extremities.
The Cercopitheci likewise possess a large tail, which is, however, not
more or less pendulous, as in the semnopitheci, but generally carried
erect over the back. They have also a longer face, and their cheeks
are furnished with pouches, in which, like the pelican or the hamster,
they are capable of stowing part of their food; an organisation which
seems to denote that they are inhabitants of a country where the
forests are less extensive. They are not devoid of intelligence, but
extremely restless and noisy. Many that were mild and amiable while
young, undergo at a later period a complete change of character. The
only way, according to M. Isidore Geoffroy, to curb the temper of one
of these full-grown monkeys is to extract the sharp and formidable
canine teeth, with which it is capable of inflicting the most dangerous
wounds. When disarmed, it immediately alters its manners, as it now
feels its impotence. Several of the monkeys belonging to this group are
distinguished by the lively colours of their fur; that of the Diana
Monkey (_Cercopithecus diana_) among others, which is a native of Congo
and Guinea, sells for a considerable price.
Nothing can be more amusing to the disinterested spectator or more
provoking to the proprietor than to witness the operations of a troop
of Cercopitheci while plundering a dhourra or maize field. Under
the guidance of an old and experienced male, the impudent robbers
set out on their foraging expedition. The female monkeys carry with
them their young ones, who, clasping their mother’s neck with their
fore-feet, sometimes also wind their little caudal appendages as an
additional support round her tail. At first the band approaches with
great caution, the leader constantly at its head, and the others
following from branch to branch. Sometimes he climbs to the top of a
high tree for the purpose of reconnoitring, and finding all safe, a
few tranquillising guttural sounds make known to his followers the
satisfactory results of his inspection. Alighting from the tree nearest
to the field, a few leaps bring them to the scene of action, where
their first care is to stuff their wide cheek pouches with provender
as fast as they can. This done, they allow themselves more leisure and
at the same time become more choice in the selection of their food.
Every ear of maize or dhourra after having been plucked from the plant
is now carefully examined, and if not approved of, thrown away. When a
monkey has an abundance of food at his disposal, he will spoil at least
ten times more than he eats. The troop now feeling itself thoroughly
secure, the mothers allow their young, who are generally kept under
strict control, to leave them and amuse themselves with their
play-fellows. The little creatures, who by the bye are intensely ugly,
have been so well brought up that at the first sound of alarm they
immediately return to their mothers, who, like all other members of the
band, implicitly rely upon the watchfulness of the leader.
From time to time this cautious ‘old gentleman’ will interrupt the most
savoury repast, raise himself on his hind-legs, stand upright like a
man, and look about him. A single inimitable gurgling tone of alarm
gathers in a moment the troop of his followers; the mothers recall
their young ones, and all are instantly ready for flight; each carrying
with him as much provender as he can. The nearest tree is ascended
in a trice, and from this starting point the hurried flight goes on
from branch to branch. The expertness of the monkeys in climbing and
springing is indeed wonderful, and surpasses that of all other animals.
For them there is no impediment: the sharpest thorns, the thickest
hedges--nothing retards them. The most daring leaps are executed with
an admirable ease. Seizing a high branch with its outstretched hand,
a monkey will swing himself upon it, a feat which no cat or squirrel
can imitate; or he will throw himself from the summit of a tree upon
a branch far below, which bends under the sudden shock of his weight,
and then makes use of the recoil to perform a mighty horizontal bound.
While this precipitate flight is going on, the leader still directs the
movements of the band, which only relaxes in its haste when he thinks
proper. All this time they show not the least signs of confusion,
and such is their presence of mind that it preserves them from all
danger. In fact they have no enemies to fear but other monkeys and the
serpents; for they easily get out of the reach of the larger beasts of
prey, and no bird will attack them, as it well knows that it would be
at once assailed by a whole band. Thus a life as void of care as life
can be, has fallen to the lot of these free denizens of the forest.
Brehm relates an affecting instance of parental friendship in a tame
male Cercopithecus. Koko (as the monkey was called) had adopted a
young one of the same species, still very much in want of his mother’s
assistance. He treated it with all the affection of a parent, watched
over it while eating, and warmed it at night in his arms. He was
constantly anxious about its welfare, got uneasy when it strayed away
only a few paces, and called it immediately back again at the least
apprehension of danger. When Brehm tried to remove it, he got furious
and defended his adopted child with all his might. Thus both monkeys
lived together several months, when the young one fell ill and soon
after died. The sorrow of the bereaved foster-father was excessive, not
like that of an animal, but similar to the grief of a deeply-feeling
man. At first he took the stiffening body in his arms, caressed it
in all possible manners, and attended upon it as before, with the
tenderest care. He then placed it in a sitting posture before him,
looked at it attentively, and uttered a plaintive cry when he saw it
collapse. Again and again he tried to recall it to life; and every
time he uttered a loud cry when he saw that his favourite remained
dead. The whole day he took no food, the dead little monkey occupied
him constantly. At length Brehm took away the body by force and threw
it over the high wall of the courtyard into the garden. But in a few
minutes the monkey had bitten the strong rope through to which he was
fastened, sprang over the wall and returned with the body in his arms.
Brehm now again bound him fast, took the dead body away and threw it
into a deep well. The monkey immediately freed himself once more from
his bonds, remained for hours searching for the body, and then left the
house for ever. In the evening of the same day he was seen on his way
to the woods. ‘To call such and similar actions instinct,’ says Brehm,
‘would be ridiculous. They are proofs of intellect and deep feeling.
There are apes who surpass many obtuse members of the human race in
sense, and their intelligence grows by experience, as I have frequently
observed in tame monkeys. Without hesitation we may rank the simiæ next
to man as the most highly developed animals, not only in their physical
organisation, but also in intelligence.’
The tribes of the Mangabeys, Macaques, Magots, and Cynopitheci form the
links between the cercopitheci and the baboons. Their shape is less
slender than that of the former, their frontal bone is more developed,
particularly above the eyebrows, and their face is longer. They are all
of them provided with cheek-pouches. Several of the macaques have a
very short tail, and the magots, or Barbary apes, and the cynopithecus
of the Philippine Islands, have none, thus resembling the large
anthropomorphous apes, but widely differing from them in other respects.
The Magot is the only European species, and seems exclusively confined
in our part of the world to the rock of Gibraltar, though some authors
affirm that it is found in other parts of Andalusia, and even in the
province of Grenada. It would no doubt long since have been extirpated,
if the British Government had not taken it under its especial
protection, and imposed the penalty of a heavy fine upon its wanton
destruction.
The Cynocephali (Baboons and Mandrills) show at once by their Greek
name that a dog-like snout gives them a more bestial expression than
belongs to the rest of the monkey tribes, and that of all the simiæ of
the Old World they are most widely distant from man. In size they are
only surpassed by the gorilla and the uran, and if in the latter the
physiognomy becomes more brutal in its expression with advancing age,
this degradation is much greater in the baboons.
Their canine teeth in particular acquire a greater sharpness than those
of almost every other carnivorous animal, so that these malignant and
cruel animals, armed with such powerful weapons, may well be reckoned
among the most formidable of the wild beasts of Africa. As if to
render them complete pictures of depravity, their manners also are so
shamelessly filthy, that the curiosity they excite soon changes into
horror and disgust.
The short-tailed mandrills inhabit the west coast of Africa. The
Maimon is the most remarkable of the whole genus for brilliancy and
variety of colour; its furrowed cheeks are magnificently striped with
violet, blue, purple, and scarlet, so as more to resemble an artificial
tattooing than a natural carnation. As the creature increases in age,
the nose also becomes blood-red. On the loins the skin is almost
bare, and of a violet-blue colour, gradually altering into a bright
blood-red, which is more conspicuous on the hinder parts, where it
surrounds the tail, which is generally carried erect.
Even among the base mandrills there are some which maintain in
confinement the milder character of their youth, and on whom education
has had such influence as to allow them to be introduced into company
without fear of a too flagitious breach of decorum. One of these
pattern animals was ‘Happy Jerry,’ long kept in a London menagerie, and
who gained such fame by his good manners as to be honoured by a special
invitation to Windsor. Jerry knew how to sit upon a chair, and worthily
to fill it, as he was nearly five feet long. He relished his pot of
porter, which he used to drink out of a pewter can, and smoked his pipe
with all the gravity of a German philosopher. But even Jerry was not to
be trusted out of the sight of his keepers.
[Illustration: MANDRILL (CYNOCEPHALUS MAIMON).]
[Illustration: PIG-FACED BABOON.]
The real baboons are distinguished from the mandrills by a long
tail, terminated by a tuft of hair. The great baboon of Senegal
(_Cynocephalus Sphinx_) is by no means devoid of intelligence, and
learns many tricks when taught from early youth. His temper, however,
is brutal and choleric, though less so than the Chacma (_Cynocephalus
porcarius_), or pig-faced baboon, which is found in the vicinity
of Cape Town, among others on the celebrated Table Mountain. Young
chacmas are often kept as domestic animals, performing the offices of a
mastiff, whom they greatly surpass in strength. Thus they immediately
announce by their growling the approach of a stranger, and are even
employed for a variety of useful purposes which no dog would be able
to perform. Here one is trained to blow the bellows of a smith; there
another to guide a team of oxen. When a stream is to be crossed, the
chacma immediately jumps upon the back of one of the oxen, and remains
sitting till he has no longer to fear the wet, which he loves as little
as the cat.
In Abyssinia, Nubia, and South Arabia we find the Derryas (_C.
Hamadryas_), which enjoyed divine honours among the ancient Egyptians.
The general colour of the hair is a mixture of light-grey and
cinnamon, and in the male that of the head and neck forms a long
mane, falling back over the shoulders. The face is extremely long,
naked, and of a dirty flesh-colour. This ugly monkey was revered as
the symbol of Thoth, the divine father of literature and the judge
of man after death. Formerly temples were erected to his honour, and
numerous priests ministered to his wants, but now, by a sad change of
baboon-fortune, he is shot without ceremony, and his skin pulled over
his ears to be stuffed and exhibited in profane museums.
The monkeys of the New World differ still more widely from those of the
Old than the copper-coloured Indian from the woolly Negro. One sees
at once on comparing them that whole oceans roll between them, that
they have not migrated from one hemisphere to another, but belong to
two different phases of creation. While the nasal partition of the Old
World simiæ is narrow as in man, it is broad without exception in all
the American monkeys, so that the nostrils are widely separated and
open sideways. The dental apparatus is also different, for while the
monkeys of our hemisphere have thirty-two teeth, those of the western
world generally possess thirty-six.
The tailless monkeys or apes, and the short-tailed baboons, are
peculiar to our hemisphere, and it is only here that we find almost
voiceless simiæ, while the American quadrumana are all of them
tailed, short-snouted, and generally endowed with stentorian powers.
Finally, it would be as useless to look among the western monkeys for
cheek-pouches and sessile callosities, as among those of the Old World
for prehensile tails.
In the boundless forests of tropical South America, the monkeys form by
far the greater part of the mammalian inhabitants, for each species,
though often confined within narrow limits, generally consists of a
large number of individuals. The various arboreal fruits which the
savage population of these immeasurable wilds is unable to turn to
advantage, fall chiefly to their share; many of them also live upon
insects. They are never seen in the open savannahs, as they never touch
the ground unless compelled by the greatest necessity. The trees of
the forests furnish them with all the food they require; it is only in
the woods that they feel ‘at home’ and secure against the attacks of
mightier animals; why then should they quit them for less congenial
haunts? For their perpetual wanderings from branch to branch, Nature
has bountifully endowed many of them, not only with robust and muscular
limbs and large hands, whose moist palms facilitate the seizure of
a bough, but in many cases also with a prehensile tail, which may
deservedly be called a fifth hand, and is hardly less wonderful in its
structure than the proboscis of the elephant. Covered with short hair,
and completely bare underneath towards the end, this admirable organ
rolls round the boughs as though it were a supple finger, and is at the
same time so muscular that the monkey frequently swings with it from
a branch like the pendulum of a clock. Scarce has he grasped a bough
with his long arms, when immediately coiling his fifth hand round the
branch, he springs on to the next, and secure from a fall, hurries so
rapidly through the crowns of the highest trees that the sportsman’s
ball has scarce time to reach him in his flight.
When the Miriki (_Ateles hypoxanthus_), the largest of the Brazilian
monkeys, sitting or stretched out at full length, suns himself
on a high branch, his tail suffices to support him in his aërial
resting-place, and even when mortally wounded, he remains a long time
suspended by it, until life being quite extinct, his heavy body,
whizzing through the air, and breaking many a bough as it descends,
falls with a loud crash to the ground.
In general the American monkeys are distinguished by a much milder
disposition than those of the eastern hemisphere, and retain at an
advanced age the playful manners of their youth. They are commonly more
easy to tame, and learn many little tricks which are taught with much
greater difficulty to their restless Asiatic or African cousins. Their
weakness, their short canine teeth, their good temper, render them
harmless play-fellows, and thus they are generally preferred in Europe
to the Old World monkeys, though they are not so lively, and constantly
have a more or less dejected mien, as if they still regretted the
primitive freedom of the forest.
The American monkeys may be conveniently divided into two large groups;
with or without a prehensile tail. To the first great subdivision
belong the Howling Monkeys or Aluates (_Mycetes_), the Spider Monkeys
(_Ateles_), the Sajous, and several other intermediate genera.
The Aluates are chiefly remarkable for their stentorian powers, which
no other animal can equal or approach. When the nocturnal howl of
the Large Red Howling Monkey (_Mycetes ursinus_) bursts forth from
the woods, you would suppose that all the beasts of the forest were
collecting for the work of carnage. Now it is the tremendous roar of
the jaguar as he springs on his prey; now it changes to his terrible
and deep-toned growlings as he is pressed on all sides by superior
force; and now you hear his last dying moan, beneath a mortal wound.
Some naturalists have supposed that these awful sounds can only proceed
from a number of the red monkeys howling in concert, but one of them
alone is equal to the task. In dark and cloudy weather, and just before
a squall of rain, the Aluate often howls in the day-time; and on
advancing cautiously to the high and tufted tree where he is sitting,
one may then have a good opportunity of seeing the large lump in his
throat, the sounding-board which gives such volume to his voice, move
up and down as he exerts his stentorian lungs.
[Illustration: HOWLING MONKEY.]
The howling monkeys are the most robust of the American simiæ, and in
spite of their long tail have a certain analogy with the urans, whom
they may be said to represent in the New World. Their various species
range from Paraguay to Honduras, while the Ateles or Spider Monkeys,
thus named from their long slender limbs and sprawling movements,
extend over the whole surface of tropical America. The marimonda
(_Ateles Belzebub_) is even found on the eastern slopes of the Andes
at a height of 10,000 feet above the level of the sea, an elevation
attained by him alone of all the quadrumanous tribes. Like the African
Colobi, the spider monkeys have no thumb on their fore-hands; their
voice is a soft and flute-like whistling, resembling the piping of a
bird. It is said that when a mother burthened with her young hesitates
to take too wide a leap, _paterfamilias_ seizes the branch she intends
to reach, and swings himself to and fro with it, until his companion is
able to attain it by a spring.
The second group of American monkeys, consisting of those with a
non-prehensile tail, comprises the Sakis, the Saïmiris, the Ouistitis,
&c.
The Sakis, or Fox-tailed Monkeys, are distinguished by their bushy
tail, which, however, in some species, is very short. They usually live
in the outskirts of forests, in small societies of ten or twelve. Upon
the slightest provocation, they display a morose and savage temper,
and, like the howling-monkeys, utter loud cries before sunrise and
after sunset.
The elegant ease of their movements, their soft fur, the large size of
their brilliant eyes, and their little round face, entitle the Saïmiris
to be called the most graceful of monkeys. On speaking to them for some
time, they listen with great attention, and soon lay their tiny hand
upon the speaker’s mouth, as if to catch the words as they pass through
his lips. They recognise the objects represented in an engraving even
when not coloured, and endeavour to seize the pictured fruits or
insects. The latter, and particularly spiders, which they catch most
dexterously with their lips or hands, seem to be their favourite food.
The weak little creatures are very fond of being carried about by
larger monkeys, and cling fast to their back. At first the animal to
which they thus attach themselves endeavours to get rid of its burden,
but finding it impossible, it soon becomes reconciled to its fate, and
after a short time an intimate affection arises between them, so that
when the saïmiri is busy chasing insects, his friend, before leaving
the spot, first gives him notice by a gentle cry.
The habits of the Nyctopitheci, or nocturnal monkeys, bear a great
resemblance to those of the bats or flying foxes. The shy and quiet
little animals sleep by day, concealed in the dense thickets of the
forest. Their eye and motions are completely feline. Those which Von
Martius observed in his collection, crept by day into a corner of the
cage, but after sunset their agility made up for their diurnal torpor.
In Guiana, Schomburgk met with the _Nyctipithecus trivirgatus_ as a
domestic animal. ‘A very neat little monkey, shy of light as the owl or
the bat. A small round head, extremely large yellow eyes, shining in
the dark stronger than those of the cat, and tiny short ears, give it a
peculiarly comical appearance. When disturbed in its diurnal sleep and
dragged forth to the light, its helpless movements excite compassion;
it gropes about as if blind, and lays hold of the first object that
comes within its reach, often pressing its face against it to escape
the intolerable glare. The darkest corner of the hut is its seat of
predilection, where it lies during day in a perfect asphyxia, from
which it can only be roused by blows. But soon after sunset it leaves
its retreat, and then it is impossible to see a more lively, active,
and merry creature. From hammock it springs to hammock, generally
licking the faces of the sleepers, and from the floor to the rafters
of the roof, overturning all that is not sufficiently fastened to
resist its curiosity.’
Its hair, which is grey on the back and orange-coloured on the belly,
is much thicker than that of the other monkeys, and somewhat woolly,
thus being admirably suited to the colder temperature of its nocturnal
rambles. It ranges over a great part of South America, but on account
of its retirement during the day is very rarely caught. Its voice is
remarkably strong, and, according to Humboldt, is said to resemble the
jaguar’s roar, for which reason it is called the Tiger Monkey in the
missions along the Orinoco. It lives chiefly on nocturnal insects,
thinning their ranks like the bat, but is also said to prey upon small
birds like the owl. In the Andes of New Granada, in the large forests
of Quindiu, the _N. lemurinus_ lives at an elevation of from four to
five thousand feet above the level of the sea, and makes the woods
resound during the night with his clamorous cry of ‘dūrūcŭli.’
The Ouistitis, or Squirrel Monkeys, are distinguished from all the
other American quadrumana by the claws with which all their fingers,
except the thumbs of their hands, are provided, and which render them
excellent service in climbing. They have a very soft fur, and are
extremely light and graceful in their movements, as well as elegant in
their forms. The young are often not bigger than a mouse, and even a
full-grown ouistiti is hardly larger than a squirrel, whom it resembles
both in its mode of life, and by its restless activity, as its little
head is never quiet. They use their tail, which in many species is
handsomely marked by transverse bars, as a protection against the
cold, to which they are acutely sensitive. Their numerous species are
dispersed over all the forests of tropical America, where they live as
well upon fruits and nuts as upon insects and eggs; and when they can
catch a little bird, they suck its brain with all the satisfaction of
an epicure. They are easily tamed, but very suspicious and irritable.
The learned French naturalist, Audouin, made some interesting
observations on a pair of tame ouistitis, which prove their
intelligence to be far superior to that of the squirrels, to whom they
are often compared. One of them, while regaling on a bunch of grapes,
squirted some of the juice into its eye, and never failed from that
time to close its eyes while eating of the fruit. In a drawing they
recognised not only their own likeness, but that of other animals.
Thus the sight of a cat, and what is still more remarkable, that of
a wasp, frightened them very much, while at the aspect of any other
insect, such as a cricket or a cockchafer, they at once rushed upon the
engraving, as if anxious to make a meal of the object that deluded them
with the semblance of life.
[Illustration: HANDED LEMUR.]
In the forests of tropical Africa and Asia we find a remarkable group
of animals, which, though quadrumanous like the monkeys, essentially
differs from them by possessing long curved claws on the index, and
also on the middle finger of the hinder extremities; by a sharp,
projecting muzzle, and by a different dentition. The Loris, remarkable
for the slowness of their gait and their large glaring eyes, are
exclusively natives of the East Indies; the Galagos, which unite the
organisation of the monkeys with the graceful sprightliness of the
squirrels, are confined solely to Africa, where they are chiefly
found in the gum-forests of Senegal; the Tarsii, with hinder limbs
of a disproportionate length, are restricted to a part of the Indian
Archipelago; but the large island of Madagascar, where, strange to say,
not a single monkey is found, is the chief seat of the family, being
the exclusive dwelling-place of the short-tailed Indri (whom, from
his black thick fur and anthropomorphous shape, one would be inclined
to reckon among the gibbons), and of the long-tailed Lemurs or Makis.
All these gentle and harmless animals are arboreal in their habits,
avoid the glaring light of day under the dense covert of the forest,
and awaken to a more active existence as soon as night descends upon
the earth. Then the loris, who during the day have slept clinging to
a branch, prowl among the forest-boughs in quest of food. Nothing can
escape the scrutiny of their large glaring eyes; and when they have
marked their victim, they cautiously and noiselessly approach till
it is within their grasp. The Galagos have at night all the activity
of birds, hopping from bough to bough on their hind limbs only. They
watch the insects flitting among the leaves, listen to the fluttering
of the moth as it darts through the air, lie in wait for it, and then
spring like lightning upon their prize. The long-legged Tarsii leap
about two feet at a spring, and feed chiefly on small lizards, holding,
squirrel-like, their prey in their fore-hands, while they rest on their
haunches.
[Illustration: TARSIUS BANCANUS.]
[Illustration: HEAD DRESSES OF EAST AFRICAN NEGROES.]