AARON
Having arranged my affairs in Fernan 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 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 Ndogo. 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."
[Illustration: TRADING STATION IN THE INTERIOR]
About the time I reached here, two Esyira hunters came 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 who was 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, and spurn the narrow bounds of reason; they obey no code of
ethics that can be defined, 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 was
intended that he should be the friend and ally of Moses, although not
his brother, we conferred upon him the name of Aaron, as 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 these same hunters, about
one day's journey from the place where I secured him; and in this event
began a series of sad scenes in the brief but varied life of this
little hero that 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, and 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 like sensations to those of a human
under a like 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, and I have always made
it a rule to spare the mother with her young. Whether animals feel
the same degree of mental and physical pain as man or not, they do,
in these tragic moments, evince a certain amount of concern for one
another, which 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 civilised
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
are consigned for various ports of Europe and other countries. It is
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 him 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, while the serious, earnest look of inquiry
when he was perplexed would amuse 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 in 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 with
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 labour 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.
[Illustration: PLAIN AND EDGE OF THE FOREST]
From there 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 traveller, and afford the only way of crossing
these otherwise trackless jungles.
The only means of passing these dismal swamps is to wade through the
thin slimy mud, often more than knee-deep, and sometimes extending many
hundred feet in width, 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 realise how severe the
task of his carrier was in trudging his way through such places, and
the little rogue often added to the labour by seizing hold of limbs
or vines that hung within his reach in passing, and thus retarded the
progress of the boy, who strongly protested against the ape 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, and 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, which the latter
resented 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, and
it only ended in 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 Fernan 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 his attention,
or to elicit some sign of approval, but it was in vain.
No doubt the manners of Moses were due to his health, and Aaron seemed
to realise 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, in which he was not prompted by any
suggestion from others, and 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, he moved up closer to
his side and put his arms around him in the same manner that he is seen
in the picture with Elisheba.
During the days that followed, he sat hour after hour in this 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 him a tabloid of quinine and iron twice
a day. These were dissolved in a little water and given to him in a
small tin cup which was kept for the purpose. When not in use, it was
hung upon a tall post. Aaron soon learned to know the use of it, and
whenever I would go to Moses, he 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.
During the act of administering the medicine, Aaron displayed a marked
interest in the matter, and seemed to realise 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 passive 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. While
I would take Moses for a walk, or sit 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 people in a like condition are;
but during the time I never once saw Aaron resent anything he did,
or display the least ill-temper towards him, but, 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 was 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 they have any
name for death, but they surely know what it is.
Moses was dead. His cold body lay in its usual place, but was
entirely covered over with the piece of canvas kept in the cage for
bed-clothing. I do not know whether Aaron had covered him up or not,
but he seemed to realise 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 and prepare the skin and skeleton to preserve them. 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 wept or 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 this.
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 he was never quiet for a moment if he could see or hear me,
until I secured another of his kind for a companion; 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 he was in distress or pain, and while he may
not have foreseen the result, he certainly knew what death was when he
saw it. 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
demeanour of this same ape towards his later companion, Elisheba, only
confirmed the opinion.