CHAPTER XIX

Other Kulu-Kambas--A Knotty Problem--Instinct or Reason--Various Types

Whether the kulu-kamba is a distinct species of ape, or only a

well-marked variety of the chimpanzee, he is by far the finest

representative of his genus. Among those that I have seen are some very

good specimens, and the clever things that I have witnessed in them are

sufficient to stamp them as the highest type of all apes.

On board a small river steamer that plies the Ogowé was a young female

kulu that belonged to the captain. Her face was not by any means

handsome, and her complexion was darker than that of any other kulu

I have ever seen. It was almost a coffee color. There were two or

three spots yet darker in shade, but not well defined in outline. The

dark spots looked as if they had been artificially put on the face.

The color was not solid, but looked as if dry burnt umber had been

rubbed or sprinkled over a surface of lighter brown. Although she was

young (perhaps not more than two years old), her face looked almost

like that of a woman of forty. Her short, flat nose, big, flexible

lips, protruding jaws, and prominent arches over the eyes, with a low,

receding forehead, conspired to make her look like a certain type of

human being one frequently sees. This gave her what is known as a

dish-face, or concave profile.

She had a habit of compressing her nose by contracting the muscles of

the face, curling her lips as if in scorn and at the same time glancing

at those around her as if to express the most profound contempt.

Whatever may have been the sentiment in her mind, her face was a

picture of disdain, and the circumstances under which she made use of

these grimaces certainly pointed to the fact that she felt just as

she looked. At other times her visage would be covered with a perfect

smile. It was something more than a grin, and the fact that it was

used only at a time when she was pleased or diverted showed that the

emotion which gave rise to it was perfectly in keeping with the face

itself. In repose her face was neither pretty nor ugly. It did not

strongly depict a high mental status, nor yet portray the instincts of

a brute; but her countenance was a safe index to her mind. This is true

of the chimpanzee more, perhaps, than of any other ape. The gorilla

doubtless feels the sense of pleasure, but his face does not yield

to the emotion, while the opposite passions are expressed with great

intensity, and with the common chimpanzee it is the same way, but not

to the same extent.

The kulu in question was more a coquette than a shrew. She plainly

showed that she was fond of flattery; not perhaps in the same sense

that a human being is, but she was certainly conscious of approbation

and fond of applause. When she accomplished anything difficult, she

seemed aware of it; and when she succeeded in doing a thing which she

ought not to do, she never failed to express herself in the manner

described above. She always appeared to be perfectly conscious of being

observed by others, but she was defiant and composed. There is nothing

known in the catalogue of mischief that she was not ready to tackle at

any moment and take her chances on the result. From the stokehole to

the funnel, from the jack-staff to the rudder, she explored that boat.

To keep her out of mischief, she was tied on the saloon deck with a

long line; but no one aboard the vessel was able to tie a knot in the

line which she could not untie with dexterity and ease. Her master, who

was a sailor and an expert in the art of tying knots, exhausted his

efforts in trying to make one that would defy her skill.

On one occasion I was aboard the little steamer when the culprit was

brought up from the main deck, where she had been in some mischief, and

was tied to one of the rails along the side of the boat. The question

of tying her was discussed, and at length a new plan was devised. In

the act of untying a knot she always began with the part of the knot

that was nearest to her. It was now agreed to tie the line around one

of the rails on the side of the deck, about halfway between the two

stanchions that supported it, then to carry the loose ends of the line

to the stanchion, and make them fast in the angle of the stanchion

and the rail. As soon as she was left alone she began to examine the

knots. She made no attempt at first to untie them, but she felt them,

as if to see how firmly they were made. She then climbed upon the iron

rail around which the middle of the line was tied and slackened the

knot. She pulled first at one strand and then at the other; but one

end was tied to the stanchion and the other to her neck, and she could

find no loose end to draw through. First one way and then the other

she drew this noose. She saw that in some way it was connected with

the stanchion. She drew the noose along the rail until it was near the

post; she climbed down upon the deck, then around the post and back

again; she climbed up over the rails and down on the outside, and again

carefully examined the knot; she climbed back, then through between the

rails and back, then under the rails and back, but she could find no

way to get this first knot out of the line. For a moment she sat down

on the deck and viewed the situation with evident concern. She slowly

rose to her feet and again examined the knot; she moved the noose back

to its place in the middle of the rail, climbed up by it, and again

drew it out as far as the strands would allow. Again she closed it;

she took one strand in her hand and traced it from the loop to the

stanchion; then she took the other end in the same manner and traced it

from the loop to her neck. She looked at the loop and then slowly drew

it out as far as it would come. She sat for a while holding it in one

hand, and with the other moved each strand of the knot. She was in a

deep study and did not even deign a glance at those who were watching

her. At length she took the loop in both hands, deliberately put it

over her head and crawled through it. The line thus released dropped

to the deck; she quickly descended, took hold of it near her neck, and

found that it was untied; she gathered it up as she advanced towards

the other end that was tied to the post, and at once began to loosen

the knots about it. In a minute more the last knot was released. She

then gathered the whole line into a bundle, looked at those around her

with that look of contempt which we have described, and departed at

once in search of other mischief. Her air of triumph and content was

enough to convince any one of her opinion of what she had done.

If this feat was the result of instinct, the lexicons must give another

definition for that word. There were six white men who witnessed the

act, and the verdict of all of them was that she had solved a problem

which few children of her own age could have done. Every movement

was controlled by reason. The tracing out of cause and effect was

too evident for any one to doubt. Almost any animal can be taught to

perform certain feats, but that does not show innate capacity. The

only true measure of the faculty of reason is to reduce the actor to

his own resources and see how he will handle himself under some new

condition; otherwise the act will be, at least in part, mechanical or

imitative. In all my efforts to study the mental caliber of animals I

have confined them strictly to their own judgment, and left them to

work out the problem alone. By this means only can we estimate to what

extent they apply the faculty of reason. No one doubts that all animals

have minds which are receptive in some degree. But it has often been

said that they are devoid of reason and controlled alone by some vague

attribute called instinct. Such is not the case. It is the same faculty

of the mind that men employ to solve the problems that arise in every

sphere of life, the one which sages and philosophers have used in every

phase of science, differing only in degree.

This kulu-kamba knew the use of a corkscrew. This knowledge she had

acquired from seeing it applied by men. While she could not use it

herself with success, she often tried, and she never applied it to

a wrong purpose. She would take the deck broom and scrub the deck,

unless there were water on it; in that event she always left the job.

She did not seem to know the purpose of sweeping the deck, and never

swept the dirt before the broom. The action was doubtless imitative.

She only grasped the idea that a broom was used to scrub the deck, but

she failed to observe the effect produced. However, it cannot be said

with certainty to what extent she was aware of the effect, but it is

inferred from the fact that she did not try to remove the dirt. She

knew what coal was intended for, and she often climbed into the bunker

and threw it down by the furnace door. The furnace door and steam gauge

were two things that escaped her busy fingers. I do not know how she

learned the danger of them, but she never touched them. She had to be

watched to keep her from seizing the machinery. For this she seemed to

have a strong desire, but did not know the danger she might incur.

I was aboard a ship when a trader brought off from the beach a young

kulu to be sent to England. The little captive sat upright on the deck

and seemed aware that he was being sent away. At any rate, his face

wore a look of deep concern, as if he had no friend to whom he could

appeal. On approaching him I spoke to him, using his own word for food.

He looked up and promptly answered it. He looked as if in doubt as to

whether I was a big ape or something else. I repeated the sound, and

he repeated the answer and came towards me. As he approached me I again

gave the sound. He came up and sat by my feet for a moment, looking

into my face. I uttered the sound again, when he took hold of my leg

and began to climb up as if it had been a tree. He climbed up to my

neck and began to play with my lips, nose, and ears. We at once became

friends, and I tried to buy him; but the price asked was more than I

desired to pay. I regretted to part with him, but he was taken back to

the beach, and I never saw him again.

On another occasion one was brought aboard, and after speaking to him

I gave him an orange; he began to eat it and at the same time caught

hold of the leg of my trousers as if he did not wish me to leave him. I

petted and caressed him for a moment and turned away, but he held on to

me. He waddled about over the deck, holding on to my clothes, and would

not release me. He was afraid of his master and the native boy who had

him in charge. He was a timid creature, but was quite intelligent, and

I felt sorry for him because he seemed to realize his situation.

On the same voyage I saw one in the hands of a German trader. It was a

young male, about one year old. He promptly answered the food sound.

Then I called him to come to me; but this sound he neither answered nor

complied with. He looked at me as if to ask where I had learned his

language. I repeated the sound several times, but elicited no answer.

I have elsewhere called attention to the fact that these apes do not

answer the call when they can see the one who makes it, and they do

not always comply with it. In this respect they behave very much like

young children, and it may be remarked that one difficulty in all apes

is to secure fixed attention. This is exactly the same with young

children. Even when they clearly understand, sometimes they betray no

sign of having heard. At other times they show that they both hear and

understand, but do not comply.

Another specimen that was brought aboard a ship when I was present

was a young male, something less than two years old. He was sullen

and morose. He did not resent my approaches, but he did not encourage

them. I first spoke to him with the food sound, but he gave no heed.

I retired a little distance from him and called him, but he paid no

attention. I then used the sound of warning; he raised his head and

looked in the direction from which the sound came. I repeated it, and

he looked at me for a moment and turned his head away. I repeated it

again. He looked at me, then looked around as if to see what it meant,

and again resumed his attitude of repose.

On my last voyage to the coast I saw a very good specimen in the Congo.

It was a female, a little more than two years old. She was also of a

dark complexion, but quite intelligent. She had been captured north of

there, and within the limits elsewhere described. At the time I saw her

she was ill and under treatment; but her master, the British consul,

told me that when she was well she was bright and sociable. I made no

attempt to talk with her, except some time after having left her I gave

the call sound. She answered by looking around the corner of the house.

I do not know whether she would have come or not, as she was tied and

could not have come had she desired to do so.

I have seen a few specimens of this ape, and most of them appear to

be of a somewhat higher order than the ordinary chimpanzee; but there

is among them a wide range of intelligence. It would be a risk to say

whether the lowest specimen of kulu is higher or lower than the highest

specimen of the common chimpanzee, but taken as a whole they are much

superior. I shall not describe the specimens which have been known in

captivity, since most of them have been amply described by others.

If proper conditions were afforded to keep a pair of kulus in training

for some years, it is difficult to say what they might not be taught.

They are not only apt in learning what they are taught, but they are

well disposed and can apply their accomplishment to some useful end.

We cannot say to what extent they may be able to apply what they learn

from man, because the necessity of using such knowledge is removed by

the attention given to them.

Apes and Monkeys: Their Life and Language · 第 19 / 24 章