MONKEY NOTIONS.
The _guamos_ were now in full bearing, their luscious pods a grateful
refreshment to the heated and thirsty rambler through the woods. Monkeys
and macaws are particularly fond of this fruit; and on the tops of all
the highest guamo-trees could be seen family reunions of these
chatterers apparently discussing the merits of the crop.
Of monkeys, the most conspicuous in the Llanos are the _araguato_, or
howling monkey (Simia ursina), and the _machango_ (S. sajous), this last
a small grey monkey, very common in most parts of Venezuela. On account
of its wonderful agility and vivacious disposition the machango is much
esteemed as a pet by the inhabitants, many of whom keep one or more tied
to a post in the court-yard, where they enact to some extent the rôle of
buffoon to the whole family. They are, however, very mischievous
creatures, doing every possible damage in the house the moment they are
at large; but are especially destructive to cacao plantations and
cornfields. When about to commence their depredations in these, they
usually assemble in great numbers and exercise many precautions; the
first step is to station several of their number as sentinels upon the
highest trees, or any elevated situation overlooking the avenues leading
to the plantation, whence they warn the others of approaching danger.
The next proceeding is that of placing those of the females--which on
account of their young are prevented from assisting in the foray--in
some safe retreat. The precautions completed, they invest the cornfield
in earnest, pulling down the stocks and tearing off ears of corn with
astonishing expedition, chattering, laughing, and yelling all the while
like a set of mischievous boys in the absence of the dominie. When they
have accumulated a sufficient number of ears, they split the husks, and
tying them in pairs by means of an ingenious knot peculiar to
themselves, called in consequence monkey-tie, they throw them across
their backs, and thus equipped hasten to hide their booty in some safe
nook difficult of discovery by the neglectful majordomo, who not
unfrequently conceals his own defalcations in the yield of the
plantation by ascribing the deficiency to the thieving monkeys. It often
happens that while these last are engaged in their depredations, they
are surprised by the owner of the cornfield, who, eluding the vigilance
of the scouts, suddenly appears and pours a shower of shot into their
midst. Then with shrill cries of alarm the whole troop scamper off
helter-skelter, tumbling, pitching or hobbling along on all fours, but
never dropping a particle of their plunder. The belief obtains in the
Llanos, that when at length safe in their haunts, the careless sentinels
are arraigned before a council of elders, who after due deliberation
condemn them, after which the guilty parties are tied to a tree and
soundly whipped.
No less remarkable is their ingenious method of crossing torrents and
other minor streams which they often encounter in their ceaseless
perambulations through the forest. As among men, all cannot swim with
equal facility, so it is also with monkeys; accordingly the leaders of
the troop, generally the strongest of the party, climb to the spreading
branches of some tree projecting over the stream; one of them then
twists his tail firmly around a branch, and letting his body hang,
seizes upon the tail of the nearest comrade, who in his turn performs
the same operation with the next, and so on until a sort of chain or
living pendulum is formed, which in obedience to the laws of equilibrium
oscillates slowly but constantly from their combined efforts to reach
the opposite bank. This finally achieved, the last monkey secures
himself to the most convenient tree. The others of the chain, now
disengaged from the tree at the opposite side of the stream, wade
through the water, each helped by his neighbor, assisted likewise by the
current. Some are, however, occasionally drowned, the last one in the
chain especially, which circumstance has probably given rise to the
popular proverb, _el último mono siempre se ahoga_--the last monkey is
sure to be drowned. Sagacious as these animals undoubtedly are, it is
often very easy to entrap them. One of the simplest methods consists in
cutting a number of holes in a gourd barely large enough to admit of
squeezing in the monkey’s hands. The gourd thus prepared is filled with
corn and secured to the trunk of a tree, then shaken violently for a
time so as to attract the attention of the monkeys, and a few grains of
corn scattered in the neighborhood of the trap. The gourd is in fact the
dinner bell of the monkeys, which no sooner hear the well known sound,
than they descend in great numbers from their aerial homes, and each in
turn seizing the gourd, grasps through one of the holes a handful of
corn. ‘But in vain do they struggle to withdraw their hands without
relinquishing the prize; and at this critical moment, the concealed
author of their mishap suddenly makes his appearance, and tying their
hands carries them off to his cottage in the woods.
More taciturn and retiring in his habits than the preceding, the
_araguato_--a large reddish monkey of the ring-tail genus--exhibits none
of those mischievous tricks which characterize the former, never
approaching the haunts of man nor ravaging the fields of the industrious
farmer. His only food consists of wild fruits, gathered as, with
astonishing rapidity, he springs from branch to branch. All the limbs of
this great monkey are admirably adapted to his roving habits; in these
he is assisted very materially by his long prehensile tail, which acts
the part of a fifth hand.
The roar of the _araguato_ is so extraordinary, that persons who hear it
for the first time invariably imagine it that of the jaguar. I think I
may assert without fear of mistake, that it can be heard at the
distance of three miles, especially in damp and cloudy weather. “This
most striking of all animal voices is heard occasionally at sunrise and
sunset, and sometimes in the heat of the day, but more frequently during
the darkness of night. When near, the roar is terrific; a naturalist has
compared it to the tempest howling through rocky caverns. It is a voice
so unearthly that, heard unexpectedly for the first time, it would fill
the mind with the most melancholy forebodings.”[32]
“The Indians pretend,” observes Humboldt, that when the _araguatos_ fill
the forest with their howlings, there is always one that chants as
leader to the chorus. The observation is pretty accurate. During a long
interval one solitary and strong voice is generally distinguished, till
its place is taken by another voice of a different pitch. We may observe
from time to time the same instinct of imitation among frogs, and almost
all animals which live together and exert their voices in union. The
missionaries further assert that when a female among the _araguatos_ is
on the point of bringing forth, the choir suspends its howlings till the
moment of the birth of the young. I could not myself judge of the
accuracy of this assertion; but I do not believe it to be entirely
unfounded. I have observed that when an extraordinary incident--the
moans, for instance, of a wounded _araguato_--fixed the attention of the
band, the howlings were for some minutes suspended. The face of this
singular monkey is nearly concealed by a sandy, bushy beard, extending
below and projecting considerably beyond his chin, giving him a very
dignified appearance. So striking is their resemblance to the human
species, that once, after having shot one, I almost felt as though I had
committed a murder. When I raised the poor creature from the ground upon
which he had fallen, his large grey eyes were bathed in tears, and every
feature expressed the deepest agony. Casting upon me a most eloquent
look of reproach, he endeavored to push me aside; but too much enfeebled
by his wound, lay down and calmly resigned himself to the scrutinizing
gaze of my English companions, who discussed and disputed about the
division of his still panting body--one wanting the skin for a smoking
cap and the drum of the throat for the bowl of his pipe, while the other
would be contented with nothing less than the whole carcass. For my own
part, I only desired to get out of sight of the dying creature; and
shouldering my gun, departed in a mood which determined me never again
to lift my hand against these innocent wild men of the woods.
South America may be said to be, _par excellence_, the home of the
monkey tribe. Besides the foregoing, the great forest south of the
pampas of Apure is filled with the cries, yells, and roarings by night
and day--for some are nocturnal and others diurnal--of countless troops
of the various families of these quadrumana, roaming through it, from
the mysterious _Salvaje_ (supposed by many to be a great and powerful
monkey, who, Gorilla-like, seizes upon defenceless women and carries
them off to some inaccessible tree in the forest), down to the tiny
marmoset, not larger than a flying-squirrel, but all possessing more or
less that degree of intelligence and cunning so nearly akin to human
instinct. Some are white-faced, with the rest of the body black; others
black-faced, forming a curious contrast with a thick head of hair
perfectly white. Bates observed on the Upper Amazon a very rare species
with a scarlet face, making the animal look pretty much like an Indian
bedaubed with arnatto,[33] as is the practice of the aborigines in a
wild state. Some have blue noses; others a dark ring around the eyes,
giving the creature a most ludicrous appearance, as if adorned with a
pair of spectacles.
In the same region is found another curious genus of monkeys, namely,
the _owl-faced night apes_, described by Bates and Humboldt as being of
small size, the body about a foot long and the tail fourteen inches, and
are thickly clothed with soft, grey, and brown hair, similar in
substance to that of the rabbit. They sleep all day long in hollow
trees, and come forth to prey on insects, and eat fruits, only in the
night. Their physiognomy reminds one of an owl, or tiger-cat; the face
is round and encircled by a ruff of whitish fur. Bates had one of these
animals given him by a _compadre_, as a present from his newly-baptized
godson, and he describes it as being a great favorite with every one,
from the cleanliness of its habits and the prettiness of its features
and ways; and the Municipal Judge of Ega, Don Carlos Mariana, had
another species of the same genus, which was most amusingly tame,
delighting to be caressed by all persons who came into the house, and at
night sleeping with his master in his own hammock, and nestling in his
bosom half the day as he lay reading.
A very striking feature of most South American monkeys is the strong
resemblance they bear to the Indian race, just as those of Africa
resemble the negro, and those of the Indian Archipelago the Malay race
of men. Some of them look so much like Indians, that one cannot help
imagining there exists a near relationship between these dwellers of the
forest. The _capuchin_ of the Orinoco, which Waterton has made so
celebrated, under the vague appellation of _nondescript_, and the _tití_
of the same locality, may be mentioned as exceptions to the rule, the
former on account of a long, bushy beard, and soft, glossy black head of
hair, nicely parted in the middle, like a refined exquisite, and the
latter with its finely-modelled head and most expressive features, which
added to a high degree of intelligence and sprightly restlessness
possessed by the little creature, make it a favorite pet, with ladies
especially, when reduced to domestic life. The _tití_ is a medium-sized
monkey, with hair of a golden yellow; and what adds to its attraction as
a pet, is its cleanly habits, so unlike those of its congeners, washing
its hands whenever it comes near water, which makes them look at all
times like those of a well-nursed child. But, woe to the elegantly
furnished boudoir, if it should contrive to get loose, which it often
does in spite of precautions, for it will prove a perfect _enfant
terrible_ amongst the choicest trinkets of feminine adornment, smashing
everything within its reach, and examining into every nook and corner of
the wardrobe with perfect infantile curiosity. On the other hand, it
will completely rid the house of spiders and other like vermin, for
which tropical climates are famous, not even sparing the favorite
songster in its cage, for it is quite omnivorous in its tastes. Humboldt
relates of one he kept in his canoe, during his tedious exploration of
these rivers, that it would take particular pleasure in looking over the
plates of a work on Natural History, which the great philosopher used to
turn over occasionally for his own and his pet’s amusement; sitting
itself on the lap of its master, it would look intently on the figures
of the various animals with as much interest as a child would evince,
under like circumstances, but without betraying any especial emotion,
until it came to the plate representing the insects. Although the
engravings were not colored, the _tití_ would now advance its little
hand in the hope of catching a spider, a grasshopper, or a wasp,
whenever it perceived one of these insects, of which it is particularly
fond. It remained perfectly indifferent when it was shown engravings of
skeletons or heads of mammiferous animals. “No other monkey,” adds
Humboldt, “has so much the physiognomy of a child as the _tití_; there
is the same expression of innocence, the same playful smile, the same
rapidity in the transition from joy to sorrow. Its large, handsome eyes
are instantly filled with tears when it is seized with fear.” Even in
the wild state, the _tití_ evinces a degree of cunning seldom found in
others of its class. An instance of this is shown in the manner in which
it robs the bee colony not only of its rich stores of sweet honey, but
also of its industrious tenants; stationing itself at the mouth of the
beehive--usually in the hollow branch of some tree in the forest--the
_tití_ catches and eats up every member of the busy colony as they go in
and out on their laborious errands. When no more insects can be
obtained, and knowing instinctively that within that mysterious abode is
to be found something sweeter still, the little imp diligently commences
to dig into the aperture until a passage wide enough for the hand is
made, and then commences the work of destruction upon grubs and
honey-combs. Should these be placed too far down the opening to be
reached with the hand, the _tití_ introduces its tail--which is
considerably longer than its arms--into the deposit of honey, and
withdrawing it, well bedaubed with the coveted prize, commences to enjoy
it with great gusto.
Isidore Geoffrey St. Hilaire relates of another individual of this
genus, that “it distinguished between different objects depicted on an
engraving. M. Audouin showed it the portraits of a cat and a wasp; at
these it became very much terrified; whereas, at the sight of a figure
of a grasshopper or beetle, it precipitated itself on the picture, as if
to seize the objects there represented.”
Bates mentions another rare species of the same genus, first described
by Humboldt, which was, if possible, more playful and intelligent than
any of the preceding. “This rare and beautiful little monkey is only
seven inches in length, exclusive of the tail. It is named _leoninus_,
on account of the long brown mane which depends from the neck, and which
gives it very much the appearance of a diminutive lion. In the house
where it was kept it was familiar with every one; its greatest pleasure
seemed to be to climb about the bodies of different persons who entered.
The first time I went in, it ran across the room straight-way to the
chair on which I had sat down, and climbed up to my shoulder; arrived
there, it turned round and looked into my face, showing its little
teeth, and chattering as though it would say, ‘Well, and how do _you_
do?’ It showed more affection toward its master than toward strangers,
and would climb up to his head a dozen times in the course of an hour,
making a great show every time of searching there for certain
animalcula.”
The same writer describes the ingenious mode of obtaining live
specimens, as practised by Indian hunters. “The mother, as in other
species of the monkey order, carries her young on her back. Individuals
are obtained alive by shooting them with the blow-pipe and arrows tipped
with diluted urarí poison. They run a considerable distance after being
pierced, and it requires an experienced hunter to track them. He is
considered the most expert who can keep pace with a wounded one, and
catch it in his arms when it falls exhausted. A pinch of salt, the
antidote to the poison, is then put in its mouth, and the creature
revives.”
As I write this in the quiet seclusion of the country, I hear among the
trees surrounding one of the finest mansions in Connecticut, the
twittering chatter of another little monkey, or marmoset, a _tití_ of
the coast of Cartagena, which I procured from hence not long ago. It is
quite small, of a reddish-brown color, with a face resembling more an
African negro (for it is jet black) than the aborigines of the opposite
coast. A thick woolly coat of white hair covers its head, so that at a
distance the little creature looks as if ornamented with a cap of
snow-white feathers. Enjoying with myself the freedom of the hospitable
mansion, it is allowed to roam at pleasure among the branches of the
trees, but as the sun goes down, it invariably seeks the comforts of its
bed, prepared by its kind mistress, inside a market-basket in her own
room. Monito--this is its name--is an early riser, which makes it rather
inconvenient for the other inmates of the room; for, although the
windows are left open through the night, it will not stir until its
breakfast has been placed before the little scamp, who, in the meantime,
keeps such squealing and twittering as to rouse “Nini” and her mamma.
Its hunger satisfied, it bounds away to the tree-tops, leaping from
branch to branch with astonishing agility, which never fails to attract
a crowd of squirrels, which, mistaking it for one of their tribe, run
towards the stranger; but no sooner do they perceive the jetty phyz and
snowy locks of Don Monito, than, with one yell of astonishment, and the
utmost horror depicted in their countenance, they scamper off to a
respectable distance. Then follows a sort of inquiring colloquy between
both parties, all chatting at the same time, and making the air resound
all the while with the chirping palaver. It does not get beyond this,
however, for, at the first advance made on either side, one of the
parties, or both, scamper off ingloriously, thus verifying the saying--
“He who fights and runs away
Lives to fight another day.”
Not satisfied with the abundant fare of spiders caught around the roof,
Monito comes regularly to the house at certain hours, to be fed on more
dainty food, consisting of bits of sugar, cake, and delicious grapes,
fresh from the grapery, which the thoughtful ladies of the mansion have
in readiness for their guest. At times it pays a visit to the laundress,
at her establishment, for whom it has evinced a strong attachment,
owing, I suspect, to the fact that said dame invariably treats the
favorite to a good slice of bread and butter, of which it seems to be
very fond also. Selecting a comfortable place in some corner of the
room, it spends an hour or so chatting to the worthy laundress all the
while in a language only intelligible to itself. I fear, however, that
the country air of a northern climate does not quite agree with the
little South-American, for it has been observed, at times, in the
morning, shaking from head to foot, and seeking some convenient place on
the roof of the piazza, where it can have the full benefit of the sun’s
rays, a sure sign of a coming attack of chills and fever. This
circumstance, and the fact of its having become more irritable and
morose than usual, has induced me to procure, from a friend in town,
another small monkey, in whose company it came from South America,
although of a different species, to see if the presence of its former
associate will restore its spirits; but to no purpose, for, after a fair
trial, we find that the attentions of this last, which is a most
restless and mischievous creature, pulling the invalid’s tail and
silvery tufts of hair, whenever they are brought together, instead of
proving a comfort to Monito, throws it into violent fits.
The monkey in question is the _cari-blanco_, white-faced, of the River
Sinu, a higher grade of ape than the marmosets, and is, in consequence,
one of the most intelligent individuals of the family. It is really
entertaining to see such a small creature aping childhood so well as to
amuse itself and the rest of the family whose hospitality it enjoys,
with a doll and some marbles which it stole from the baby; and one of
the ladies having shown it a musical toy, which she blew to attract its
notice, the mimicking creature at once snatched the toy from her hand,
and immediately applied it to its mouth, endeavoring to produce the same
sounds, although without effect; whereupon it tried a like experiment on
the doll--which it carries constantly under its arm--but with no better
results. Another source of amusement is derived from a kitten belonging
to the baby, the sight of which produced at first as much astonishment
and curiosity as the interview between Monito and the squirrels brought
about. Now they are as good friends as if they had known each other a
lifetime; so much so that the baby finds it difficult to separate her
pussy from the dreaded monkey, which “Nini” abominates ever since Monito
bit her badly, for want of experience on her part in dealing with these
spiteful creatures.
It is a fact worthy of notice, that most monkeys, especially those of a
higher grade, manifest on all occasions a strong attachment to young
animals, especially puppies and kittens, caressing and handling them
with the same care that a human being bestows on the young of their own
kind. I once obtained, in Costa Rica, a large female monkey of the
ring-tail species, which, in intelligence and _monerias_ (monkey tricks)
surpassed any creature of this description I have yet seen or heard of;
so much so that Herr Müller, a German baker of San José, who owned the
pet, had given her the name of “Panchita,” or Little Frances; and so
captivated was I too by Miss Panchita, that I at once entered into
negotiations with the baker for her purchase. But of this more hereafter
in the _Second Series_ of these sketches.
Well, said Panchita was, like the rest of her class, particularly fond
of puppies; but not possessing sufficient discrimination to distinguish
between the ages of animals, and judging of this only through their
size, she seized, on one occasion, a small poodle, which happened to
pass near her, mistaking it for a puppy, and pressing it to her breast
with appropriate demonstrations of motherly solicitude, endeavored to
induce the dog to avail itself of the proffered donation; but a bite
from the ungrateful chap warned the would-be nurse of the dangers
arising from too close an intimacy with strangers. Poor Panchita! Having
brought her along with me to New York, and placed her in Barnum’s
celebrated boarding-school for dumb beasts from all parts of the world,
she shared the fate of the “Happy Family” during the disastrous fire
which consumed that renowned establishment.
As an instance of the affection and intelligence displayed by these
singular creatures, I will mention here another South American monkey,
from the Upper Amazon river, of which the indefatigable collector of
natural history, Mr. Bates, says, alluding to one possessed by a
neighbor of his at Ega: “My friend was a tailor, and the little pet used
to spend the greater part of the day seated on his shoulder, while he
was at work on his board. It showed, nevertheless, great dislike to
strangers, and was not on good terms with any other member of my
friend’s household than himself, I saw no monkey that showed so strong a
personal attachment as this gentle, timid, silent little creature. The
eager and passionate Cebi seem to take the lead of all South American
monkeys in intelligence and docility, and the Coaitá has perhaps the
most gentle and impressive disposition; but the Parauacú, although a
dull, cheerless animal, excels all in this quality of capacity of
attachment to individuals of our own species. It is not wanting in
intelligence as well as moral goodness, proof of which was furnished one
day by an act of our little pet. My neighbor had quitted his house in
the morning, without taking Parauacú with him, and the little creature
having missed its friend, and concluded, as it seemed, that he would be
sure to come to me, both being in the habit of paying me a daily visit
together, came straight to my dwelling, taking a short cut over gardens,
trees, and thickets, instead of going the roundabout way of the street.
It had never done this before, and we knew the route it had taken only
from a neighbor having watched its movements. On arriving at my house,
and not finding its master, it climbed to the top of my table, and sat
with an air of quiet resignation waiting for him. Shortly afterwards my
friend entered, and the gladdened pet then jumped to its usual perch on
his shoulder.”
I will conclude this chapter--already, I fear, too long--with some
further remarks respecting the _Salvaje_, or “Wild Man of America,” as
it is called by those who, to this day, believe that such
_nondescript_--for no one seems to have ever seen it, except the
footprints--exists in the wilds of Venezuela. Both Father Gumilla and
Humboldt allude to the belief entertained by the people of those regions
in the existence of a great anthropoid ape, which was reputed to build
huts, carry off women, and devour jealous husbands. It is curious,
however, to see how these two great expounders of nature’s wonders
endeavor to solve the mystery. While the philosopher of the nineteenth
century explains the “fable,” as he calls it, by suggesting the
existence in these wilds of “one of those large bears, the footprints of
which resemble those of man, and which are believed to carry off
women,” the devout philosopher of nearly two centuries ago boldly
ascribes the doings of the dreaded creature to no other individual than
the Devil himself, ever anxious to do all possible mischief among
Christians, especially those of the newly-organized missions of the
Upper Orinoco and Meta rivers; in proof of this the good missionary
father tells us that, “On one occasion, the infernal voice was
distinctly heard by Capt. Don Domingo Zorrilla, a native of Rioja, in
Spain, exhorting, from the top of a palm tree, the Gentile Indians, who
were ready to come out of the forest and become good Christians, not to
do it.” And, adds the credulous historian: “Alarmed with this terrific
noise, the valiant captain inquired of the Christian cacique who
accompanied him, from whence proceeded those frightful sounds? to which
the cacique replied, that these were the utterances of the Devil, which
the captain believed to be true, so great was the internal horror which
he felt; and I too believed it, by the faith I had in the great veracity
of said captain, and other unmistakable proofs I perceived afterwards at
the distance of only two leagues from the river Ubocá, all of which
happened on the 23d of February, 1716.”
Notwithstanding the strong faith entertained by the narrator on the
“great veracity of the valiant captain,” I am of opinion that the roar
of a well-organized band of _araguatos_ was mistaken on this occasion
for the utterances of his Infernal Majesty.
Still, the story of the _Salvaje_ is not altogether discredited, even by
scientific men of high standing; among the latter I may mention the
accomplished author of the “Romance of Natural History,” who not only
questions the authority of Humboldt in denying the existence of a great
anthropomorphous monkey in America, but boldly comes in support of those
who believe in this possible phenomena. I quote his words: “But it might
be permitted, in return, to ask what “large bear” is known to inhabit
Venezuela; and whether it is true that bears’ footsteps have a signal
resemblance to those of men; and that bears especially attack women. Is
not such a bear in South America quite as gratuitous as the monkey
himself? And, since species of _quadrumana_ are characteristic of the
forests of that region, may it not be possible that some one rivalling
man in stature and strength, may there exist, as well as in Africa and
the Oriental Archipelago? The mighty gorilla himself has only just been
introduced to us.”[34]
[Illustration: AMONG THE CROCODILES.]