For many days we had been pushing our way, as best we could, through
one of the densest of South American forests. Late one afternoon we
stopped by the side of a narrow but swiftly flowing river, and began
to prepare our camp for the night. Suddenly we heard, at some distance
from us on the other side of the stream, a great chattering and
screaming, as if thousands of monkeys were moving among the trees and
each trying to make more noise than all the rest.
“An army of monkeys on the march,” said our guide. “They are coming
this way, and will most likely cross the river yonder where the banks
are so steep, with those tall trees growing on either side.”
“How will they cross there?” I asked. “The water runs so swiftly that
they certainly cannot swim across.”
“Oh, no,” said the guide; “monkeys would rather go into fire than
water. If they cannot leap the stream, they will bridge it.”
“Bridge it! and how will they do that?”
“Wait, captain, and you shall see,” answered the guide.
We could now plainly see the animals making their way through the
tree-tops and approaching the place which the guide had pointed out. In
front was an old gray-headed monkey who directed all their movements
and seemed to be the general-in-chief of the army, while here and there
were other officers, each of whom appeared to have certain duties to
perform.
One ran out upon an overhanging branch, and, after looking across the
stream as if to measure the distance, scampered back and made a report
to the leader. There was at once a change in the conduct of the army.
Commands were given, and a number of able-bodied monkeys were marched
to the front. Then several ran along the bank, examining the trees on
both sides.
At length all gathered near a tall cottonwood, that grew over the
narrowest part of the stream, and twenty or thirty of them climbed
its trunk. The foremost--a strong fellow--ran out upon a limb, and,
taking several turns of his tail around it, slipped off, and hung head
downwards. The next on the limb climbed down the body of the first,
and, wrapping his tail tightly around him, dropped off in his turn, and
hung head downwards. And thus the third monkey fastened himself to the
second, and the fourth to the third, and so on, until the last one upon
the string rested his fore paws upon the ground.
The living chain now commenced swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
The motion was slight at first, but gradually increased, the monkey at
the lower end striking his hands against the ground and pushing out
with all his strength. This was kept up until the end of the chain was
thrown among the branches of the tree on the opposite bank. One of
these the lowermost monkey caught and held fast. The chain now reached
from one side of the stream to the other, forming a living bridge over
which all the other monkeys, young and old, passed without confusion or
delay.
The army was soon safely across, but how were the animals forming the
bridge to get themselves over? Should the monkey at the top of the
chain let go of the cottonwood branch, the other end of the bridge was
so much lower that he, with those nearest him, would be dashed against
the opposite bank or soused into the water.
The question was soon answered. A powerful fellow was seen taking firm
hold of the lowest on the bridge, then another fastened himself to him
in like manner, and this was continued until a dozen more were added to
the string. These last monkeys then ran up to a high limb, and lifted
that end of the bridge until it was several feet above that on the
opposite bank.
Then the monkey who had formed the first link in the chain loosed his
hold upon the cottonwood branch, and the whole bridge swung safely
over. The lowermost links dropped lightly to the ground, while the
higher ones leaped to the branches and came down by the trunk. The
whole army then scampered away into the forest, and the sound of their
chattering was soon lost in the distance.
--MAYNE REID.
_By special permission._