Aaron--His Capture--Mental Powers--Acquaintance with Moses--His Conduct
during Moses’ Illness
Having arranged my affairs in Ferran Vaz so as to make a journey across
the great forest that lies to the south of the Nkami country and
separates it from that of the Esyira tribe, I set out by canoe to a
point on the Rembo about three days’ journey from the place where I had
so long lived in my cage. At a village called Tyimba I disembarked and,
after a journey of five days and a delay of three more days, caused by
an attack of fever, I arrived at a trading station near the head of a
small river called Noogo. It empties into the sea at Sette Kama, about
four degrees south of the equator. The trading post is about a hundred
miles inland, at a native village called Ntyi-ne-nye-ni,--which,
strange to say, means, in the native tongue, “Some Other Place.”
About the time I reached the trading post, two Esyira hunters arrived
from a distant village and brought with them a smart young chimpanzee
of the kind known in that country as the kulu-kamba. He was quite the
finest specimen of his race that I have ever seen. His frank, open
countenance, big brown eyes, and shapely physique, free from mark or
blemish of any kind, would attract the notice of any one not absolutely
stupid. It is not derogatory to the memory of Moses that I should say
this, nor does it lessen my affection for him. Our passions are not
moved by visible forces nor measured by fixed units. They disdain all
laws of logic, spurn the narrow bounds of reason, and conform to no
theory of action.
As soon as I saw this little ape I expressed a desire to own him. So
the trader in charge bought him and presented him to me. As it had
been intended that he should be the friend and ally of Moses, although
not his brother, I conferred upon him the name of Aaron. The two names
are so intimately associated in history that the mention of one always
suggests the other.
Aaron was captured in the Esyira jungle by the hunters, about one day’s
journey from the place where I secured him; and with this event began a
series of sad scenes in the brief but varied life of this little hero
such as seldom come within the experience of any creature.
At the time of his capture his mother was killed in the act of
defending him from the cruel hunters. When she fell to the earth,
mortally wounded, this brave little fellow stood by her trembling body
defending it against her slayers, until he was overcome by superior
force, seized by his captors, bound with strips of bark, and carried
away into captivity. No human can refrain from admiring his conduct in
this act, whether it was prompted by the instinct of self-preservation
or by a sentiment of loyalty to his mother, for he was exercising that
prime law of nature which actuates all creatures to defend themselves
against attack, and his wild, young heart throbbed with sensations like
to those of a human under similar ordeal.
I do not wish to appear sentimental by offering a rebuke to those who
indulge in the sport of hunting; but much cruelty could be obviated
without losing any of the pleasure of the hunt. I have always made
it a rule to spare the mother with her young. Whether or not animals
feel the same degree of mental and physical pain as man, they do,
in these tragic moments, evince for one another a certain amount of
concern. This imparts a tinge of sympathy that must appeal to any one
who is not devoid of every sense of mercy. It is true that it is often
difficult--and sometimes impossible--to secure the young by other
means; but the manner of getting them often mars the pleasure of having
them; and while Aaron was to me a charming pet and a valuable subject
for study, I confess the story of his capture always touched me in a
tender spot.
I may here mention that the few chimpanzees that reach the civilized
parts of the world are but a small percentage of the great number that
are captured. Some die on their way to the coast, others die after
reaching it, and scores of them die on board the ships to which they
have been consigned for various ports of Europe and other countries.
Death results not often from neglect or cruelty, but usually from a
change of food, climate, or condition; yet the creature suffers just
the same whether the cause is from design or accident. One fruitful
source of death among them is pulmonary trouble of various types.
One look at the portrait of Aaron will impress any one with the high
mental qualities of this little captive; but to see and study them in
life would convince a heretic of his superior character. In every look
and gesture there was a touch of the human that no one could fail to
observe. The range of facial expression surpassed that of any other
animal I have ever studied. In repose his quaint face wore a look of
wisdom becoming to a sage; while in play it was crowned with a grin
of genuine mirth. The deep, searching look he gave to a stranger was
a study for the psychologist. The serious, earnest look of inquiry
when he was perplexed would have amused a stoic. All these changing
moods were depicted in his mobile face with such intensity as to leave
no room to doubt the activity of certain faculties of the mind to a
degree far beyond that of animals in general; and his conduct in many
instances showed the exercise of mental powers of a higher order than
that limited agency known as instinct. In addition to these facts, his
voice was of better quality and more flexible than that of any other
specimen I have ever known. It was clear and smooth in uttering sounds
of any pitch within its scope, while the voices of most of them are
inclined to be harsh or husky, especially in sounds of high pitch.
Before leaving the village where I secured him, I made a kind of sling
for him to be carried in. It consisted of a short canvas sack, having
two holes cut in the bottom for his legs to pass through. To the top
of this was attached a broad band of the same cloth by which to hang
it over the head of the carrier boy to whom the little prisoner was
consigned. This afforded the ape a comfortable seat, and at the same
time reduced the labor of carrying him. It left his arms and legs free,
so he could change his position and rest, while it also allowed the boy
the use of his own hands in passing any difficult place in the jungle
along the way.
From the trading post to the Rembo was a journey of five days on foot.
Along the way were a few straggling villages; but most of the route lay
through a wild and desolate forest, traversed by low, broad marshes,
through which wind shallow sloughs of filthy, greenish water, seeking
its way among bending roots and fallen leaves. From the foul bosom of
these marshes rise the effluvia of decaying plants, breeding pestilence
and death. Here and there across the dreary tracts is found the trail
of elephants, where the great beasts have broken their tortuous way
through the dense barriers of bush and vine. These trails serve as
roads for the native traveler and afford the only way of crossing
these otherwise trackless jungles. The only means of passing the
dismal swamps is to wade through the thin, slimy mud, often more than
knee-deep, and sometimes extending many hundred feet in width. The
traveler is intercepted at almost every step by the tangled roots of
mangrove trees under foot or clusters of vines hanging from the boughs
overhead.
Such was the route we came. But Aaron did not realize how severe was
the task of his carrier in trudging his way through such places, and
the little rogue often added to the labor by seizing hold of limbs
or vines that hung within his reach in passing. Thus he retarded the
progress of the boy, who strongly protested against the ape’s amusing
himself in this manner. The latter seemed to know of no reason why
he should not do so, and the former did not deign to give one. So
the quarrel went on until we reached the river; but by that time
each of them had imbibed a hatred for the other that nothing in the
future ever allayed. Neither of them ever forgot it while they were
associated, and both of them evinced their aversion on all occasions.
The boy gave vent to his dislike by making ugly faces at the ape, and
the latter showed his resentment by screaming and trying to bite him.
Aaron refused to eat any food given him by the boy, and the boy would
not give him a morsel except when required to do so. At times the feud
became ridiculous. It ended only with their final separation. The last
time I ever saw the boy, I asked him if he wanted to go with me to my
country to take care of Aaron; but he shook his head and said: “He’s
a bad man.” This was the only person for whom I ever knew Aaron to
conceive a deep and bitter dislike, but the boy he hated with his whole
heart.
On my return to Ferran Vaz, where I had left Moses, I found him in a
feeble state of health, as related elsewhere. When Aaron was set down
before him, he merely gave the little stranger a casual glance, but
held out his long, lean arms for me to take him in mine. His wish was
gratified, and I indulged him in a long stroll. When we returned I
set him down by the side of his new friend, who evinced every sign of
pleasure and interest. He was like a small boy when there is a new baby
in the house. He cuddled up close to Moses and made many overtures to
become friends; but, while the latter did not repel them, he treated
them with indifference. Aaron tried in many ways to attract the
attention of Moses, or to elicit from him some sign of approval, but it
was in vain.
No doubt Moses’ manners were due to his sickness, and Aaron seemed to
realize it. He sat for a long time holding a banana in his hand and
looking with evident concern into the face of his little sick cousin.
At length he lifted the fruit to the lips of the invalid and uttered a
low sound; but the kindness was not accepted. The act was purely one of
his own volition, to which he was not prompted by any suggestion from
others. Every look and motion indicated a desire to relieve or comfort
his friend. His manner was gentle and humane, and his face was an image
of pity.
Failing to get any sign of attention from Moses, Aaron moved up closer
to his side and put his arms around him in the manner that is shown
in the picture of him with Elisheba. During the days that followed,
he sat hour after hour in the same attitude, and refused to allow any
one except myself to touch his patient; but on my approach he always
resigned him to me, while he watched with interest to see what I did
for him.
Among other things, I gave Moses twice a day a tabloid of quinine and
iron. This was dissolved in a little water and given to him in a small
tin cup kept for the purpose. When not in use, the cup was hung upon
a tall post. Aaron soon learned to know the use of it, and whenever I
went to Moses, Aaron would climb up the post and bring me the cup to
administer the medicine. It is not to be inferred that he knew anything
about the nature or effect of the medicine, but he knew the use, and
the only use, to which that cup was put.
Aaron displayed a marked interest during the act of administering
the dose, and seemed to realize that it was intended for the good of
the patient. He would sit close up to one side of the sick one and
watch every movement of his face, as if to see what effect was being
produced, while the changing expressions of his own visage plainly
showed that he was not indifferent to the actions of the patient.
While I was present with the sick one, Aaron appeared to feel a certain
sense of relief from the care of him, and frequently went climbing
about as if to rest and recreate himself by a change of routine.
Whenever I took Moses for a walk, or sat with him on my lap, his little
nurse was perfectly content; but the instant they were left alone,
Aaron would again fold him in his arms, as if he felt it a duty to do
so.
It was only natural that Moses, in such a state of health, should be
cross and peevish at times, as human beings in a like condition are;
but I never once saw Aaron resent anything Moses did, or display the
least ill-temper towards him. On the contrary, his conduct was so
patient and forbearing that it was hard to forego the belief that it
was prompted by the same motives of kindness and sympathy that move
the human heart to deeds of tenderness and mercy. At night, when they
were put to rest, they lay cuddled up in each other’s arms, and in the
morning they were always found in the same close embrace.
But on the morning Moses died the conduct of Aaron was unlike anything
I had observed before. When I approached their snug little house and
drew aside the curtain, I found him sitting in one corner of the cage.
His face wore a look of concern, as if he were aware that something
awful had occurred. When I opened the door he neither moved nor uttered
any sound. I do not know whether or not apes have any name for death,
but they surely know what it is.
Moses was dead. His cold body lay in its usual place; but it was
entirely covered over with the piece of canvas kept in the cage for
bed-clothing. I do not know whether or not Aaron had covered him up,
but he seemed to realize the situation. I took him by the hand and
lifted him out of the cage, but he was reluctant. I had the body
removed and placed on a bench about thirty feet away, in order to
dissect it and prepare the skin and the skeleton for preservation.
When I proceeded to do this, I had Aaron confined to the cage, lest he
should annoy and hinder me at the work; but he cried and fretted until
he was released. It is not meant that he shed tears over the loss of
his companion, for the lachrymal glands and ducts are not developed in
these apes; but they manifest concern and regret, which are motives of
the passion of sorrow. But being left alone was the cause of Aaron’s
sorrow. When released he came and took his seat near the dead body,
where he sat the whole day long and watched the operation.
After this Aaron was never quiet for a moment if he could see or hear
me, until I secured another of his kind as a companion for him; then
his interest in me abated in a measure, but his affection for me
remained intact. His conduct towards Moses always impressed me with the
belief that he appreciated the fact that the sick one was in distress
or pain, and while he may not have foreseen the result, when he saw
death he certainly knew what it was. Whether it is instinct or reason
that causes man to shrink from death, the same influence works to the
same end in the ape; and the demeanor of this ape towards his later
companion, Elisheba, only confirmed this opinion.