Aaron and Elisheba--Their Characteristics--Anecdotes--Jealousy of Aaron
Four days after the death of Moses I secured passage on a trading
boat that came into the lake. The boat was a small affair, intended
for towing canoes, and not in any way prepared to carry passengers
or cargo; but I found room in one of the canoes to set the cage I
had provided for Aaron, stowed the rest of my effects wherever space
permitted, and embarked for the coast.
Our progress was slow and the journey tedious. The only passage out of
the lake at that season is through a long, narrow, winding creek beset
by sand bars, rocks, logs, and snags, and in some places overhung by
low, bending trees. But the wild, weird scenery is grand and beautiful.
Long lines of bamboo, broken here and there by groups of pendanus or
stately palms; islands of lilies, and long sweeps of papyrus spreading
away from the banks on either side; the gorgeous foliage of aquatic
plants, drooping along the margin like a massive fringe and relieved by
clumps of tall, waving grass, forms a perfect Eden for the birds and
the monkeys that dwell among those scenes of eternal summer.
After a delay of eight days at Cape Lopez, we secured passage on a
small French gunboat called the _Komo_, by which we came to Gaboon.
There I found another kulu-kamba. She was in the hands of a generous
friend, Mr. Adolph Strohm, who presented her to me. I gave her to Aaron
as a wife and called her Elisheba,--after the name of the wife of the
great high-priest. Elisheba had been captured on the head-waters of the
Nguni River, in about the same latitude that Aaron was found in, but
more than a hundred miles to the east of that point and a few minutes
north of it. I did not learn the history of her capture.
It would be difficult to find any two human beings more unlike in
taste and temperament than these two apes were. Aaron was one of the
most amiable of creatures; he was affectionate and faithful to those
who treated him kindly; he was merry and playful by nature, and often
evinced a marked sense of humor; he was fond of human society and
strongly averse to solitude or confinement.
Elisheba was a perfect shrew. She often reminded me of certain women
that I have seen who had soured on the world. She was treacherous,
ungrateful, and cruel in every thought and act; she was utterly devoid
of affection; she was selfish, sullen, and morose at all times; she was
often vicious and always obstinate; she was indifferent to caresses,
and quite as well content when alone as in the best of company. It is
true that she was in poor health, and had been badly treated before she
fell into my hands; but she was by nature endowed with a bad temper and
depraved instincts.
It is not at all rare to see a vast difference of manners,
intelligence, and temperament among specimens that belong to one
species. In these respects they vary as much in proportion to their
mental scope as human beings do; but I have never seen, in any two
apes of the same species, the two extremes so widely removed from one
another.
While waiting at Gaboon for a steamer I had my own cage erected for the
apes to live in, as it was large and gave them ample room for play and
exercise. In one corner of it was suspended a small, cosy house for
them to sleep in. It was furnished with a good supply of clean straw
and some pieces of canvas for bedclothes. In the center of the cage was
a swing, or trapeze, for them to use at their pleasure. Aaron found
this a means of amusement, and often indulged in a series of gymnastics
that might evoke the envy of a king of athletic sports.
Elisheba had no taste for such pastime, but her depravity could never
resist the impulse to interrupt Aaron in his jolly exercise. She would
climb up and contend for possession of the swing, until she would drive
him away. Then she would perch herself on it and sit there for a time
in stolid content; but she would neither swing nor play. Frequently
during the day, when Aaron was lying quietly on the straw, she would
go into the snug little house and raise a row with him by pulling the
straw from under him, a handful at a time, and throwing it out of the
box till there was none left in it. No matter what kind or quantity of
food was given them, she always wanted the piece he had, and would fuss
with him to get it; but having got it, she would sit holding it in her
hand without eating it; for there were some things that he liked which
she would not eat at all.
When we went out for a walk, no matter which way we started, Elisheba
always contended to go some other way. If I yielded, she would again
change her mind and start off in some other direction. If forced to
submit, she would scream and struggle as if for life. I cannot forego
the belief that these freaks were due to a base and perverse nature,
and I could find no higher motive in her stubborn conduct.
Aaron was very fond of her and rarely ever opposed her inflexible will.
He clung to her and let her lead the way. I have often felt vexed at
him because he complied so readily with her wishes. The only case in
which he took sides against her was in her conduct towards me.
When I first secured her she had the temper of a demon, and with the
smallest pretext she would assault me and try to bite me or tear my
clothes. In these attacks Aaron was always with me, and the loyal
little champion would fly at her in the greatest fury. He would strike
her over the head and back with his hands, and bite her and flog her
till she desisted. If she returned the blow he would grasp her hand and
bite it, or strike her in the face. He would continue to fight till she
submitted. Then he would celebrate his victory by jumping up and down
in a most grotesque fashion, stamping his feet, slapping his hands on
the ground, and grinning like a mask. He seemed as conscious of what he
had done and as proud of it as any human could have been; but no matter
what she did to others, he was always on her side of the question. If
any one else annoyed her, he would always resent it with violence.
About the premises there were natives all the time passing to and fro,
and these two little captives were objects of special interest to
them. They would stand by the cage hour after hour and watch them. The
ruling impulse of nearly all natives appears to be cruelty, and they
cannot resist the temptation to tease and torture anything that is
not able to retaliate. They were so persistent in poking sticks at my
chimpanzees that I had to keep a boy on watch all the time to prevent
it; but the boy could not be trusted, so I had to watch _him_.
In the rear of the room that I occupied was a window through which,
from time to time, I watched the boy and the natives, and when
anything went wrong I would call out to the boy. Aaron soon observed
this and found that he could get my attention himself by calling out
when any one annoyed him, and he also knew that the boy was put there
as a protector. Whenever any of the natives came about the cage he
would call for me in his peculiar manner, which I well understood and
promptly responded to. The boy also knew what the call meant and would
rush to the rescue. If I were away from the house and the boy were
aware of the fact, he was apt to be tardy in coming to the relief of
the ape, and sometimes he did not come at all. In the latter event the
two would crawl into their house and pull down the curtain so that they
could not be seen. Here they would remain until the natives had left or
some one came to their aid.
Neither of the apes ever resented anything the natives did to them,
unless they could see me about; but whenever I came in sight they
would make battle with their tormentors, and, if liberated from the
big cage, they would chase the last one of them out of the yard. Aaron
knew perfectly well that they were not allowed to molest him or his
companion; and when he knew that he had my support he was ready to
carry on the war to a finish. But it was really funny to see how meek
and patient he was when left to defend himself alone against the native
with a stick, and then to note the change in him when he knew that he
was backed up by a friend upon whom he could rely.
Mr. Strohm, the trader, previously mentioned, with whom I found
hospitality at this place, kept a cow in the lot where the cage was.
She was a small black animal, the first cow that Aaron had ever seen.
He never ceased to contemplate her with wonder and with fear. If she
came near the cage when no one was about, he hurried into his box and
from there peeped out in silence until she went away. The cow was
equally amazed at the cage and its strange occupants, though she was
less afraid than they, and frequently came near to inspect them. She
would stand a few yards away with her head lifted high, her eyes arched
and her ears thrown forward, waiting for them to come out of that
mysterious box. But they would not venture out of their asylum while
she remained. At last, tired of waiting, she would switch her tail,
shake her head, and turn away.
When taken out of the cage Aaron had special delight in driving the cow
away; and if she was around he would grasp me by the hand and start
towards her. He would stamp the ground with his foot, strike with all
force with his long arm, slap the ground with his hand, and scream at
her at the top of his voice. If she moved away, he would let go my hand
and rush towards her as though he intended to tear her up; but if the
cow turned suddenly towards him, the little fraud would run to me,
grasp my leg, and scream with fright. The cow was afraid of a man, and
as long as she was followed by one she would continue to go; but when
she discovered the ape to be alone in the pursuit, she would turn and
look as if trying to determine what manner of thing it was. Elisheba
never seemed to take any special notice of the cow except when she
approached too near the cage, and then it was due to the conduct of
Aaron that she made any fuss about it.
On board the steamer in which we sailed for home there was a young
elephant that had been sent by a trader, for sale. He was kept on
deck in a strong stall built for his quarters. There were wide cracks
between the boards, and the elephant had the habit of reaching his
trunk through them in search of anything he might find. With his long,
flexible proboscis extended, he would twist and coil it in all manner
of writhing forms. This was the crowning terror of the lives of those
two apes; it was the bogie-man of their existence, and nothing could
induce either of them to go near it. If they saw me approach it, they
would scream and yell until I came away. If Aaron could get hold of me
without getting too near the elephant, he clung to me until he almost
tore my clothes, to keep me away from it. It was the one thing that
Elisheba was afraid of, and the only one against which she ever gave me
warning.
They did not manifest the same concern for others, but sat watching
them without offering any protest. Even the stowaway who fed them and
attended to their cage was permitted to approach the elephant; but
their solicitude for me was remarked by every man on board. I was never
able to tell what their opinion of the thing was. They were much less
afraid of the elephant when they could see all of him, than they were
of the trunk when they saw that alone. They may have thought the latter
to be a big snake; but this is only a conjecture.
At the beginning of the voyage I took six panels of my own cage and
made a small cage for them. I taught them to drink water from a beer
bottle with a long neck that could be put through a mesh of the wires.
They preferred this mode of drinking and appeared to look upon it as an
advanced idea. Elisheba always insisted on being served first; being
a female, her wish was complied with. When she had finished, Aaron
would climb up by the wires and take his turn. There is a certain
sound, or word, which the chimpanzee always uses to express “good” or
“satisfaction,” and he made frequent use of it. He would drink a few
swallows of the water and then utter the sound, whereupon Elisheba
would climb up again and taste. She seemed to think it something better
than she was drinking, but finding it the same as she had had, she
would again give way for him. Every time he used the sound she would
take another taste and turn away; but she never failed to try it if he
uttered the sound.
The boy who cared for them on the voyage was disposed to play tricks on
them. One of these ugly pranks was to turn the bottle up so that when
they had finished drinking and took their lips away, the water would
spill out and run down over them. Several times they declined to drink
from the bottle while he was holding it, but when he let it go, it hung
in such a position that they could not get the water out of it at all.
At length Aaron solved the problem by climbing up one side of the cage
and getting on a level with the bottle; then he reached across the
angle formed by the two sides of the cage and drank. In this position
it was no matter to him how much the water ran out; it couldn’t touch
him. Elisheba watched him until she quite grasped the idea; then she
climbed up in the same manner and slaked her thirst. I scolded the
boy for serving them with such cruel tricks; but it taught me another
lesson of value concerning the mental resources of the chimpanzee, for
no philosopher could have found a much better scheme to obviate the
trouble than did this cunning little sage in the hour of necessity.
I have never regarded the training of animals as the true measure of
their mental powers. The real test is to reduce the animal to his own
resources, and see how he will conduct himself under conditions that
present new problems. Animals may be taught to do many things in a
mechanical way, and without any motive that relates to the action; but
when they can work out the solution without the aid of man, it is only
the faculty of reason that can guide them.
One thing that Aaron could never figure out was--what became of the
chimpanzee that he saw in a mirror. I have seen him hunt for that
mysterious ape an hour at a time. He once broke a piece off a mirror I
had in trying to find the other fellow, but he never succeeded. I have
held the glass firmly before him, while he put his face up close to
it--sometimes almost in contact. He would quietly gaze at the image and
then reach his hand around the glass to feel for it. Not finding it, he
would peep around the side of the glass and then look into it again. He
would take hold of it and turn it around, lay it on the ground, look at
the image again, and put his hand under the edge of the glass. The look
of inquiry in that quaint face was so striking as to make one pity him.
But he was hard to discourage. He resumed the search whenever he had
the mirror.
Elisheba never worried herself much about it. When she saw the image in
the glass she seemed to recognize it as one of her kind; but when it
vanished she let it go without trying to find it. In fact, she often
turned away from it as though she did not admire it. She rarely ever
took hold of the glass, and she never felt behind it for the other ape.
Altogether Elisheba was an odd specimen of her tribe--eccentric and
whimsical beyond anything I have ever known among animals; yet, with
all her freaks, Aaron was fond of her and she afforded him company; but
he was extremely jealous of her, and permitted no stranger to take any
liberties with her with impunity. He did not object to their doing so
with him. He rarely took offense at any degree of familiarity, for he
would make friends with any one who was gentle with him; but he could
not tolerate their attentions to her. She betrayed no sign of affection
for him except when some one annoyed or vexed him; but in that event
she never failed to take his part against all odds. At such times she
became frantic with rage, and if the cause was prolonged, she often
for hours afterwards refused to eat.
On the voyage homeward there was on board another chimpanzee, belonging
to a sailor who was bringing him home for sale. This one was about
two years older than Aaron and fully twice as large. He was tame and
gentle, but was kept in a close cage by himself. He saw the others
roaming about the deck and tried to make up with them; but they evinced
no desire to become intimate with one who was confined in such a manner.
One bright Sunday morning, as we rode the calm waters near the Canary
Islands, I induced the sailor to release his prisoner on the main deck
with my own, to see how they would act towards each other. He did so,
and in a moment the big ape came ambling along the deck towards Aaron
and Elisheba, who were sitting on the top of a hatch, absorbed in
gnawing some turkey bones.
As the stranger came near he slackened his pace and gazed earnestly
at the others. Aaron ceased eating and stared at the visitor with a
look of surprise, but Elisheba barely noticed him. He scanned Aaron
from head to foot, and Aaron did the same with him. He advanced until
his nose almost touched that of Aaron, and in this position the two
remained for some seconds. Then the big one proceeded to salute
Elisheba in the same manner, but she gave him little attention. She
continued to gnaw the bone in her hand, and he had no reason to feel
flattered at the impression he appeared to have made on her. Aaron
watched him with deep concern, but without uttering a sound.
Turning again to Aaron, the big ape reached out for his turkey bone;
but the hospitality of the little host was not equal to the demand.
He drew back with a shrug of his shoulder, holding the bone closer to
himself, and then he resumed eating. Then a steward gave a bone to the
visitor. He climbed upon the hatch and took a seat on the right of
Elisheba, Aaron being seated at her left. As soon as the big one had
taken his seat, Aaron resigned his place and crowded himself in between
them. The three sat for a few moments in this order, till the big one
got up and deliberately walked around to the other side of Elisheba and
sat down again beside her. Again Aaron forced himself in between them.
This act was repeated six or eight times; then Elisheba left the hatch
and took a seat on a spar that lay on deck. The big ape immediately
moved over and sat down near her; but by the time he was seated Aaron
again got in between them, and as he did so he struck his rival a smart
blow on the back. They sat in this manner for a minute or so. Then
Aaron drew back his hand and struck again. He continued his blows, all
the while increasing them in force and frequency; but the other did
not resent them. His manner was one of dignified contempt, as if he
regarded the inferior strength of his assailant unworthy of his own
prowess. It would be absurd to suppose that he was constrained by any
principle of honor, but his demeanor was patronizing and forbearing,
like that of a considerate man towards a small boy.
One amusing feature of the affair was the half-serious and half-jocular
manner of Aaron. When striking, he did not turn his face to look at
his rival, and the instant the blow was delivered he withdrew his hand
as if to avoid being detected. He gave no sign of anger though he made
no effort to conceal his jealousy; and the other seemed to be aware of
the cause of his disquietude. The smirk of indifference on the little
lover’s face belied the state of mind that impelled his action, and it
was patent to all who witnessed the tilt that Aaron was jealous of his
guest. From time to time Elisheba would change her seat. Then a similar
scene would ensue.
The whole affair was so comical and yet so real that one could not
repress the laughter it evoked. It was the drama of “love’s young
dream” in real life, in which every man, at some period of his young
career, has played each part the same as these two rivals played. Every
detail of plot and line was the duplicate of a like incident in the
experience of boyhood.
Elisheba did not seem to encourage the suit of this simian beau, but
she did not rebuff him as a true and faithful spouse should do, and I
never blamed Aaron for not liking it. She had no right to tolerate the
attentions of a total stranger; but she was feminine, and, perhaps,
endowed with all the vanity of her sex, and fond of adulation. However,
my sympathies for the devoted little Aaron were too strong for me to
permit him to be imposed upon by a rival twice as big and three times
as strong as himself; so I took him and Elisheba away to the after
deck, where they had a good time alone.
Elisheba was never very much devoted to me, but in the early part of
her career she began to realize the fact that I was her master and her
friend. She had no gratitude in her nature, but she had sense enough
to see that all her food and comfort were due to me, and as a matter
of policy she became submissive; but she was never tractable. She was
doubtless a plebeian among her own race and was not capable of being
brought up to a high standard of culture. She could not be controlled
by kindness alone, for she was by nature sordid and perverse. I was
never cruel or severe in dealing with her, but it was necessary to be
strict and firm. Her poor health, however, often caused me to indulge
her in whims that otherwise would have brought her under a more rigid
discipline. The patient conduct of Aaron appeared to be tempered by the
same consideration.