Gorillas & Chimpanzees. Garner Richard Lynch

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      Seated in this cage, in the silence of the great forest, I have seen the gorilla in all his majesty, strolling at leisure through his sultry domain, in quest of food. I have seen the chimpanzee under like conditions, and the happy, chattering monkey in the freedom of his jungle home.

      In this novel hermitage I remained for the greater part of the time for one hundred and twelve days and nights in succession, watching these animals in perfect freedom following the pursuits of their daily life.

      With such an experience, I will not be charged with vanity in saying that I have seen more of those animals in a state of nature than any white man ever saw, and under conditions more favourable for a careful study of their manners and habits, than could otherwise be possible. Hence, what I have to say concerning them is the result of an experience which no other man can claim.

      I do not mean to ignore or impugn what others have said on this subject, but the sum of my labours in this field leads me to doubt much that has been said and accepted as true. I regret that it devolves upon me to controvert many stories told about these great apes, but finding no germ of truth in some of them, I cannot evade the duty of denying them. I regret it all the more, because many of them have been woven into the fabric of natural history, and marked with the seal of scientific approval; but time will sustain me in the denial.

      I am aware that bigots of certain schools will challenge me for pointing out their mistakes, and some will assume to know more about these apes than a fish knows about swimming; but truth defies all theory.

      Each kind of ape will be treated in the chapter devoted to it, but only those with which I have dealt in person will be discussed at length. Others will be noticed, in order to sustain the continuity of the subject and show the relative planes of those under consideration. But before proceeding with the monkeys, I shall pause to relate some of the incidents of my hermitage.

      CHAPTER III

      DAILY LIFE AND SCENES IN THE JUNGLE

      I am so frequently asked about the details of my daily life in the cage, how the time was occupied and what I saw besides the apes, that I deem it of interest to relate a few of the events of my sojourn in this wild spot.

      In order to convey an idea of it, I shall relate the incidents of a single day and night; but of course the routine varied in some degree from day to day.

      At six o'clock, as the sun first peeps into the forest, it finds me with a tin cup of coffee, just made on the little kerosene stove. It is black and dreggy, but with a little sugar it is not bad. With a few dry crackers I break my fast of twelve hours, and am ready for the task before me.

      In the meantime the boy rolls up my bed and his mat. By this time Moses has helped himself to a banana or two. Then I take my rifle, he climbs up on my shoulder, and we go for a short walk in the bush, while the boy sweeps out the cage and puts everything in order for the day. When we return, the boy, armed with a native spear, or a huge knife, takes the big jug, and goes to a spring, about three hundred yards away, for a supply of water.

      Then Moses is allowed to climb about in the bushes and amuse himself; the boy sits down, or goes to his village a mile away, while I watch for gorillas. Silence is the order of the day, and here I sit, sometimes for hours alone, almost as quiet as a tomb.

      Presently a rustle of the leaves is heard, and a porcupine comes waddling into view. He is poking his nose about, in search of food, but has not discovered my presence. He comes closer, until the scent or sight of me startles him, and away he goes. By-and-by a civet cat comes stealing through the bush, till he observes me, and hastily departs.

      After an hour of patient waiting the sound of clashing boughs is heard in the tree-tops. A few minutes later may be seen a big school of monkeys, led by a solemn-looking old pilot, who doubtless knows every palm that bears nuts within twenty miles around. They are now coming to inspect my cage, and see what new thing this is, set up in monkeydom.

      As they come nearer, they become more cautious and tardy. They find a strong bough in the top of a big tree, and the grave old pilot perches himself far out on it, to peep at my cage. Just behind him sits the next in rank, resting his hands on the shoulders of the leader, while a dozen more are arranged in similar attitudes behind each other, along the limb. Each one pushes the one just in front of him, to make him move up a little closer, but no one of them, except the pilot, seems to want the front seat.

      They look in silence, turning their little heads from side to side, as if to be certain it is not an illusion. They nudge one another again, and move up an inch or two closer, squinting their bright eyes, as if in doubt about the strange sight before them. They have made such calls before, but have not quite determined what kind of an animal this is in the cage. At each successive visit they come a little nearer, until now they are not a hundred feet away. Now they take alarm at something, and hurry away in another direction.

      Next comes an armadillo, prowling about for insects among the leaves. He catches a glimpse of the cage, he stands motionless for a moment, to see what it is, and then, like a flash, he is gone.

      During this time birds of divers kinds have been flying in all directions. Some of them perch on the limbs near by, some pick the nuts of the palm-tree, while others scream and screech, like so many tin-whistles, or brass horns. Many of them are parrots. Some have brilliant and beautiful plumage.

      It is now ten o'clock. Not a breath of air stirs a leaf of the whole forest. The heat is sweltering and oppressive. The voices of the birds grow less and less frequent. Even the insects do not appear to be so busy as they were in the earlier hours of the day. Moses has abandoned his rambles in the bush, and sits on a fallen tree, with his arms folded, as if he had finished work for the day.

      Along towards this hour everything in the forest appears to become quiet and inactive, and continues so until about two o'clock in the afternoon. I was impressed on more than one occasion with this universal rest during the hottest part of the day, and the same thing seems to prevail among the aquatic animals.

      I now prepare my repast for midday, by opening a can of meat or fish, and warming it in a tin plate on the little stove. I have no vegetables or dessert, but with a few crackers broken up, and stirred into the grease, and plenty of water to drink with it, I find it an ample meal. When it is finished, Moses coils up in his little hammock, swung by my side, and takes his siesta. The boy, when there, stretches out on the floor, and does likewise.

      During the hours from ten till two, few things are astir, though I have seen some interesting sights during that time.

      It must not be supposed that the change is sudden at these periods, for such is not the case. It is not a fixed time for everything to cease its activity. It is by slow degrees that one after another becomes quiescent, until life appears almost extinct for a time; but as the sun begins to descend the western sky, things begin to revive, and by three o'clock everything is again astir.

      Now a lone gorilla comes stalking through the bush, looking for the red fruit of the batuna that grows at the root of the plant. He plucks a bud of some kind, tears it apart with his fingers, smells it, and throws it aside. Now he takes hold of a tall sapling, looks up at the shaking branches, and turns aside. He pauses and looks around as if suspicious of danger. He listens to see if anything is approaching, but being reassured he resumes his search for food. Now he gently parts the tangled vines that intercept his way, and creeps noiselessly through them. He hesitates, looks carefully around him, and then proceeds again. He is coming this way. I can see his black face as he turns his head from side to side, looking for food. What a brutal visage! It has a scowl upon it, as if he were at odds with all his race. He is now within a few yards of the cage, but is not aware of my presence. He plucks the tendril from a vine, smells it, and puts it СКАЧАТЬ