I have a very agitated dream.—During my waking moments I
unconsciously commit a murder.—At night time I encounter
a strange apparition in the middle of the forest.—A great
light illumines the air.—I advance towards it, buoyed up with
hope.—It suddenly disappears.—The dawn discloses to me a most
singular sight.—I witness the proceedings of a court-martial
the members composing which have each four hands.—Disgraceful
corruption of justice.—Ridiculous parody on the manners and
institutions of the human race.
I had a dream during my sleep. In this dream I found myself in the midst
of those same horrid apes from whom I had so miraculously escaped the
day before. I was still in their power! Nothing seemed changed, neither
the scene nor the actors. The lake lay spread before me; the trees rose
up and waved upon its banks; the leaves and fruit, which had been broken
off by the stones, covered the ground. My two redoubtable ourang-outangs
had not left me; one was still at my feet, the other at my head. They
continued those persecutions of which my unfortunate garments were the
theatre. After having torn them in pieces through tugging at them and
attempting to pull them off the wrong way, they had uncovered my breast;
and, after a minute examination of my skin, directed their attention
to my ribs, which they evidently wished to force apart so as to see
what they inclosed. With the view of solving this problem each of them
possessed himself of a large stone, and made preparations to break me
open, a proceeding to which they usually have recourse when they desire
to devour the inside of a tortoise or cocoa-nut. Two large stones were
already suspended over my breast; self-preservation before everything,
thought I, and fired at one of the two ourang-outangs and killed him; I
am about to fire at the other, when the noise of the first shot woke me
up. On awakening, I find myself in a perfect rage, almost mad with anger,
and with a pistol grasped in my hand. A group of apes are by my side; I
point my pistol, touch the trigger, one of them is hit, and falls. May
the Almighty, in His goodness, ever preserve me and mine from another
night like this! The poor ape, who was no terrible ourang-outang like
that of my dream, but a peaceful vervet, dragged himself bleeding to my
feet. He was mortally wounded a little below the heart. Not wishing to
prolong his sufferings, I seized him by the tail, and, swinging him round
like a stone in a sling, dashed his head against a tree. The unfortunate
vervet was still alive. With what a touching glance he appealed to me as
he licked my hands, as though begging me not to put him to death, and
prayed to me with low, plaintive cries which I can still hear! In order
to put him the quicker out of his misery, I ran with him to the beach and
plunged him into the sea till he was suffocated. During this time, which
appeared to me as long as if I were undergoing the same tortures myself,
his poor little eyes continued to follow mine; his dying looks were
at once a reproach and a prayer. Were I to live a hundred years, this
picture, in which suffering had elevated the instinct of the brute to the
level of the cruel intelligence of man, would never be effaced from my
memory. And these lines, which I have written with an aching heart, are
some kind of punishment for my needless crime, for this poor ape had done
no harm whatever to me.
Later I remembered what Buffon says of the vervet, “that it is one of
the most lively and amusing of apes; is scarcely as large as a cat; and
has a brown body, with flesh-coloured face and ears. The vervets are
fantastic in their tastes and affections, appearing to have a strong
inclination for some persons and a great aversion to others.”
I was far more distressed at my cruel action, although I hardly need
have been, since I had killed the vervet while I was still stupefied by
sleep and under the influence of a dream. When I returned to the place
whence I had fired the pistol, I was grieved to discover that the shot
which had killed one vervet had, unfortunately, wounded another of the
group into the midst of which I had so recklessly fired. All the other
apes belonging to the same species had assembled round their wounded
companion, and were placing their fingers in his wound, as though they
wished to probe it. While some kept it open, others brought leaves which
they chewed and gently placed in the wound itself. This last act upset
all my preconceived ideas with regard to the intelligence of these
animals, so badly treated, by some naturalists, who have confounded
inferior kinds with species like those of the vervets, that almost
approach our own, falling into the same error as that ignorant observer
who placed in the same rank, under the pretext that they were both men,
the _cretin_ of the Alps and the admirably-organised inhabitant of Italy
or Greece. Since this example of apes rendering one another mutual help
in time of danger, and nursing one another with the aid of special
remedies known only to themselves, has frequently come before my eyes, I
have not hesitated to relate one instance of which I was an eye-witness,
in the hope of making the reader share the surprise and interest which it
awakened in me.
My poor apes at length retired, carrying with them their wounded
companion, and leaving me one sorrow more to add to those which already
oppressed me. I spent a miserable day, haunted by remorse for my crime.
I could not banish from my mind the piteous expression of these poor
animals, and the mingled look of goodness, gentleness, suffering, and
resignation imprinted in their features, so utterly distinct from those
of other apes, from whom they appeared completely separated, not by the
mere effect of chance, or by the boundary which the difference of genius
had raised between them.
When night came on I had already left the actors and the theatre of these
events far behind me. About midnight, on hearing, in a wood of mimosas,
and seemingly quite close to me, an indefinable rustling, such as the
dry husks of the bread-tree produce when driven about by the wind, I
remembered all at once that I had forgotten to reload my pistols. Before
proceeding another step I charged them with ball, and advanced cautiously
towards the spot whence the noise appeared to proceed. I approached
slowly on tiptoe, holding my breath, and with my heart beating violently,
as I gently pushed aside the thorny branches of the mimosas, and raised
them again with the same prudent caution. I stretched forth my neck, and
by the light of the moon, which shone as brightly as on the preceding
evening, I perceived a skeleton suspended from the branch of a tree—a
skeleton, too, of huge size: its bones, which were white as ivory,
stood out from the dark green leaves with a power of relief which added
considerably to the terror of its aspect. As I watched it swinging to and
fro in the wind, the sensation which I experienced was by no means an
agreeable one, and a nervous shudder passed through my limbs. Eventually
I reasoned with myself, and decided not to draw too sinister a conclusion
from a circumstance which perhaps, after all, did not partake of that
degree of atrocity that my imagination had hastily pictured.
I now walked boldly up to the skeleton, and sought to catch hold of its
foot, but the foot proved to be a hand. The skeleton was evidently that
of an ape—an ape, too, of the largest kind; in other words, a gigantic
mandrill. Yes, a mandrill—that enemy of the baboon with whom it shares
the empire of ferocity and terror. I considered, from the size of the
skeleton, that the ape to which it belonged must have surpassed, in size
and strength, all known examples of this formidable species. But how came
he to be suspended here, I asked myself? And why was it that his skin had
been entirely removed? Not the least fragment of it was to be seen at the
foot of the tree. Had he been flayed after being hung, and had his death
then been stamped with all the forms of a degrading punishment?
As my reflections, under the shadow of this improvised gibbet, failed to
produce any kind of solution of the above enigma, I hastened to leave
the spot, pondering over in my mind as to the proportion of apes and men
occupying this spot of earth in the midst of the sea. One will easily
comprehend that my mind was constantly indulging in speculations—first of
all as to the probability of the island being inhabited, and then as to
the particular kind of people who dwelt therein.
Whilst I was asking myself these questions for the thousandth time, as
I walked straight on without knowing whither I was going, it seemed to
me that the light of the moon underwent, for some minutes, a notable
diminution. What, thought I, could possibly be the cause of this? I
raised my head. The moon’s disk was really clouded by a reddish mist,
slightly tinted with grey. This mist was evidently not a cloud. Moreover,
in so pure an atmosphere, a cloud, the sign of wind and tempest, would
have passed over much higher in the sky. At one time it seemed so low
that it occurred to me it was some exhalation from the lake, a vapour
produced by the vast collections of vegetable remains accumulated on
its margin. To put an end to my doubts on this score, I climbed up
a tree, and there I discovered—victory and release from my enforced
captivity—that it was the smoke from a fire burning in the interior of
the island. A fire! The island was undoubtedly inhabited, then—inhabited,
too, by human beings, since man alone can procure himself fire, man alone
knows how to use it, and man alone has need of it. I was then among
beings of my own kind. I was saved—or perhaps lost! Nevertheless it was
a fact that I was among members of the human family. Acting on this
conviction, I thought it only prudent to slip a second bullet into each
of my pistols.
Collecting together all my scattered faculties, I imposed upon them
the task of guiding me in the direction in which I supposed this fire
to be, and the object of which was now a source of some anxiety to me.
Did it indicate one of those extraordinary conflagrations, in producing
which the savages of Oceania have frequently no other motive beyond
destroying, in a few hours, vast tracts of forests, that they may gratify
themselves with a most sublime sight? Did it betray the presence of a
band of pirates, arrived perhaps in the island during this very evening,
and sharing their booty by the light of some immense fire which they had
kindled in accordance with their prevailing habits of destruction? Did
it indicate the chief settlement of the native population, who, during
the hours of universal silence, were giving themselves up to certain wild
rejoicings, or were engaged in consummating some nocturnal sacrifice
under the mysterious light of the moon?
The hope that I was at length about to find myself among members of the
human family was dimmed by the reflection that these men would certainly
not be finished models of civilisation, for I was not ignorant of the
fact that many islands of Oceania have been, since the creation of the
world, and are likely to continue for a long time to come, nothing more
than nests of cannibals. Cannibals, however, do not always eat people
any more than serpents always sting them, so there was, at any rate, one
chance in my favour out of something like a score of chances against me.
Moreover, hope does not reason for itself like fear is apt to do.
Without stopping to admire the magnificence of the night, magnificent
even to me, accustomed as I was to the incomparable nights of the
southern hemisphere; without lending an ear to the different harmonies
composed of notes of a character utterly unknown to me, since it must not
be forgotten that every island of Oceania is a world apart, a complete
universe in itself, often having its flowers, its plants, its birds, its
reptiles, and its human occupants, different from the men, reptiles,
birds, plants, and flowers of the island adjoining; without pausing to
examine anything, no matter however strange or ravishing, I continued
to advance in a straight line towards that part of the island where I
thought the fire which I had seen from afar must be burning.
At the end of three long hours I discovered it was by no means so easy to
arrive at this earnestly desired goal as I had pictured it. The surface
of the island being more or less undulating, whenever I descended into
a hollow, or had to cross some ravine which intercepted my path, I
immediately lost sight of the radiant glow which served as a beacon. On
several occasions I had to climb to the top of a tall tree before I could
make certain that I was pursuing the right direction. Unfortunately the
fire was not always maintained at the same degree of intensity, and there
was one critical moment when, after climbing to the topmost branches of
the tallest tree I could find, I could distinguish nothing but the merest
spark. My most ardent prayers were that it might not become totally
extinguished before the break of day, but my supplications were of no
avail. The fire flickered for a moment or two, and then went out. I could
now only guide myself by certain signs; I was already in the midst of a
sea of creepers, with which the ground was carpeted, and I had to pass
through fibres of bamboo more or less impenetrable for a depth of at
least forty feet, and then, what long circuits I should have to take!
A discovery which I made at this moment went far to counterbalance the
discouragement I had just experienced on finding the light which I had
pursued with so much tenacity extinguished. This discovery affected me
considerably.
Soon after quitting the marshy plain of bamboos, from which I only
emerged after leaving some portions of my dress and skin as traces of my
path, I found myself once more on solid ground. While passing between the
numerous shrubs which covered it, and gave it the appearance of a vast
natural orchard, I came across some tempting-looking fruit. By chance,
I tasted it, and discovered from its flavour that it was evidently the
produce of a regular system of culture. There was none of that primitive
harshness which all fruits as a general rule possess till man has
improved their flavour. This discovery was a further convincing proof to
me that the island was inhabited. It reassured me and encouraged me in
my hopes, since it was not only certain that the island was inhabited,
but that it was inhabited by men skilled in agricultural pursuits, and
consequently occupying no mean place in the scale of civilisation.
At length the dawn appeared; the sky was scarcely lighted up by the first
rays of the rising sun ere the uproar which I had heard during the three
preceding days again rent the air. These frightful noises, indistinct at
first, afterwards comprised all the various gradations that belong to the
voices of wild animals, from the hypocritical and nervous mewing of the
tiger and the guttural howling of the hyena to the most piercing shrieks
and the shrillest whistlings. I started with affright at the explosion of
these horrible sounds, which seemed to spring from the depths of a vast
glade, which all at once opened out before me. It was like a battery,
suddenly unmasked, discharging all its guns at once. Without knowing what
it was that I sought to avoid, I darted on one side and hid myself behind
the trunk of a tree, bowed down to the ground and covered with a thick
mantle of moss and leaves.
The day, which in these inflammable zones does not steal on by degrees,
but bursts forth all at once into noon, filled the glade with its
dazzling light; and through the numerous openings in the trees I beheld
a sight which would seem to the reader altogether improbable, did I not
propose, further on, to bring forward the testimony of one of the most
celebrated German naturalists in support of my statement.
In a vast arena, a group of individuals, clad in red coats and with
cocked hats—surmounted by plumes of feathers, such as English officers
wear—on their heads, were seated on some rising ground, evidently in
grave deliberation, as though holding a kind of court-martial. In the
midst of this conclave I caught sight of a commanding-looking figure,
also clothed in scarlet, whose head and face were almost hidden beneath
the ample shade of a gigantic cocked hat.
The reader is certainly about to share my surprise. These individuals
were apes. Yes, apes. Again, and always, apes. But why were they dressed
out in garments in which one is unaccustomed to see them in their natural
state? Where had they procured these martial-looking coats and these
formidable cocked hats? These were riddles impossible to solve; it must
be left to the course of events to bring about an explanation.
The apes composing this group were siamangs, a redoubtable species,
who are, as Buffon says, among the largest of quadrumanous animals,
approaching the baboon in size.
These siamangs were presided over by the big ape who wore the admiral’s
hat. And he was a baboon. One could not be mistaken on this point, and I
above all, for was not Karabouffi the Second—Karabouffi the incendiary—a
baboon? How came it that at this moment I seemed to see in the person of
the president of the court-martial the very image of this treacherous
monster?
“The ourang-outang,” says Buffon in his admirable work, “the ape who most
resembles man, is the most intelligent, the gravest, and most docile
of all apes. The magot, which, with its muzzle and dog-like fangs,
diverges from the human form and approaches that of animals, is rough,
disobedient, and slovenly; while baboons, which only resemble man by
their hands, and have tails, sharp claws, and large nostrils, have the
air of ferocious beasts, and what is more, do not belie their looks.”
Around this hideous tribunal, and ranged in triple and quadruple circles,
I noticed a crowd of apes of different kinds, but all of the very worst
species, and all, moreover, clad, if one can call it clad, or adorned,
if one can call it adorned, with some portion of the costume of an
English officer, either of the army or navy. One had, for instance, a
hat splendidly got up, with a most superb plume of feathers, but he had
no red coat to set it off with; another had a red coat, but no trousers;
a third, on the contrary, had white trousers, but neither red coat nor
belt; a fourth had a belt and nothing else; a fifth was distinguished
only by a pair of white gloves, in which he placed sometimes his hands,
and sometimes his feet, or rather what represent feet in an ape; a sixth
had passed his arms through the sleeves of a midshipman’s blue jacket,
but with so little good luck, that the garment was hind-part before;
another wore an enormous gorget, which made him carry his head in the air
like a tambour major; whilst his neighbour, more favoured by fortune,
or perhaps holding a higher rank, for I was of course ignorant of the
precise significance of the various military trappings worn by these
creatures with a gravity which at that moment astonished me a hundred
times more than the ordinary extravagances of their fellows; whilst his
neighbour, as I was saying, wore golden epaulettes on a cavalry colonel’s
coat. And this costume would not have become him so very badly, had it
not been much too large for him, and capable, indeed, of containing at
least half-a-dozen colonels of his particular bulk. A sort of finish
was given to his uniform by a pair of white gloves and a military sash
with silk and gold fringe. If no one of these apes displayed on his own
person a complete example of military costume, many at least among them
exhibited special portions of it, and I should state that all were armed
with a large sabre or a sword.
I should certainly fall far short of the truth if I attempted to describe
my impressions at the sight of this insulting burlesque of one of the
most honourable of professions—at the sight of these masquerade officers,
every one of whom trailed after him a tail which looked all the more
ludicrous, peeping out as it did from under his long coat—at the sight
of those generals who amused themselves with minute investigations of
the heads of their colleagues, not, however, for phrenological purposes,
whilst their colleagues considerately rendered them the same service.
At this moment a frightful guttural cry burst forth from the breast
of the big baboon who occupied the president’s place, and all those
incongruities on which I had been speculating were in an instant
forgotten. There was silence for some minutes, and I endeavoured to
profit by it by putting my ideas—fearfully strained by all that I had
seen—a little in order. But the effort was a useless one. I asked myself
to no purpose for an explanation of the strange society assembled
before me; I knew well enough that I was not dreaming, like I was the
day before, when I fancied myself about to be assassinated by the two
ourang-outangs.
It was not the order which I found reigning among these numerous apes
assembled, as I fancied them to be, in court-martial, that caused me the
most astonishment, since I remembered what that illustrious naturalist,
Marcgrave, says—it was the sight of these hats on their brainless heads,
these coats on their ridiculous backs, that awakened in me the greatest
surprise; for how was it possible to account for the noble military
uniform being prostituted to such base uses as these?
[Illustration: While he was speaking, these unfortunate wretches trembled
all over, from head to foot.—_Page 63._]
“Every day,” observes Marcgrave in his natural history, “morning and
evening, the siamangs assemble in the woods. One among them takes up his
position on some rising ground, and makes a sign to the others to seat
themselves around him. When he sees that they are all properly placed,
he commences speaking so loud and fast that at a distance a person would
imagine they were all crying out together. Yet only one among them is
speaking; the others preserve the most perfect silence. When the speaker
has finished, he makes a sign with his hand for the others to reply to
him, whereupon, at the same instant, they all commence shouting out
together, creating, as may be supposed, the most perfect din until, by
another sign with his hand, the ape who opened the discussion commands
them to silence. In a moment they obey him, and are silent as death. The
first one then resumes his speech, and it is only after having listened
to him most attentively to the end of his oration that they take steps to
break up the assembly.”
The president of the conclave, the big baboon, decked out in the
admiral’s or general’s hat, by a single movement of his hand, ordered the
advance of twenty apes, who, I observed, were securely bound with ropes
made of some fibrous bark. When they were ranged before him like so many
criminals, he addressed them in a succession of cries similar to those
which I had just heard, but modulated in some degree, as though intended
to give expression to certain positive ideas. While he was speaking,
these unfortunate wretches trembled all over, from head to foot, and
no sooner had he concluded, than, apparently driven to desperation,
they endeavoured to escape. Vain attempt! Other apes, armed with knotty
bamboos, which they did not hesitate to use, guarded every outlet.
I was not long in discovering that these apes, on whom the assembly
were evidently sitting in judgment, belonged to the same species as my
unfortunate victim of the previous day. They were vervets, and were
distinguished from their judges by their more delicately-shaped limbs,
their more intelligent-looking heads, and, above all, by a certain air
of goodness and amiability, which was no doubt a crime in the eyes of
those by whom they had just been condemned.
And what frightful-looking fellows were their judges, who formed what
may be styled the supreme court of the big baboon! How they sought to
read beforehand in their master’s eyes the opinion which they would
be permitted to hold! Although some among them were already bald, and
others displayed the white hair of old age, that natural sign of prudence
and badge of respect, they did not the less rival their fellows in
obsequiousness towards their master. If he chanced to utter a cry, they
were the apes that, in the fullness of their sympathy, cried the loudest.
If he scratched his thigh, in a moment of deep thought, they hastened to
almost flay their legs by tearing at them with their claws.
Touched with so many marks of abject humility, the august baboon would
every now and then take from one of the side pouches of his mouth a mass
of masticated nuts or fruit, and throw it into the faces of those servile
officials who surrounded him, and who, regarding the act as a mark of
gracious condescension on his part, received it with the most lively
contortions of pleasure.
Some old ourang-outangs, who had formerly lived with the incriminated
vervets, being, I am convinced, on the point of pronouncing a decision
in the prisoners’ favour, what do you think the big baboon did, as soon
as he perceived the first indication of this misplaced pity of theirs?
He rolled his vulture-like eyes under his puckered eyelids, and showed
his horrible gums behind a smile formed by two wrinkled lips, and in an
instant the misplaced clemency of the old ourang-outangs utterly vanished.
The baboon now threw his staff of justice into the middle of the arena.
This it seems was intended as a signal, for immediately afterwards the
apes, to whom were delegated the functions of carrying out the sentences
pronounced by the supreme court, commenced showering down blows with
sticks of bamboo on the poor condemned prisoners, whom they thrashed
with an unheard-of severity, driving them clean out of the inclosure and
chasing them at last into the very depths of the forest.
This savage act of justice appeared to me as though it were chiefly
intended to increase the authority which the big baboon evidently
exercised over the apish community, since no sooner was the sitting
concluded than the siamangs, magots, and talapoins rushed forward to
congratulate him, to stroke and lick him, to jump upon his back and
salute him with respect, mingled with fear.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]