FEELING AND FRIENDLINESS IN THE MONKEY
What has been said above goes to show that the monkey can think and that it comes next to man in doing its own thinking. It goes to school, no doubt, as boys and girls go to school, but it teaches itself also, as may be seen in the story of the monkey and the brush-handle. But the monkey can not only think, it can also feel, and when we tell of some of its shows of feeling it almost seems as if we were talking about people like ourselves.
Here is a story that has been often told, but is worth telling again. A man in India had shot a female monkey and carried it to his tent. A crowd of friends of the dead animal, forty or fifty of them, soon gathered round the tent, making a great noise and acting as if they were about to make an attack on the sportsman. Only when he came out gun in hand did they run away, as if they well knew the powers of that dreadful weapon.
But the leader of the band stood his ground, chattering away in monkey language. When he found that his fury and his threats did no good, he came to the tent door and began to moan in a sorrowful manner and to make signs as if to beg for the dead body. When it was given to him he took it in his arms and carried it away to his waiting friends. All those who saw this sad scene vowed that they would never again fire at one of the monkey race.
This interesting story is only one among many. One of them has to do with an instance where the horses of a party of travellers were frightened by monkeys in the trees, some of the horses breaking loose. To stop this one of the party fired at the monkeys with a load of small shot to drive them away. One of the monkeys ran down to the lowest branch of the tree, then stopped, put his paw to the part wounded, and held it out covered with blood for the man to see. The sportsman says: "I was so much hurt at the time that it left an impression never to be effaced and I have never since fired a gun at any of the tribe."
A few minutes later a native came in and said that the monkey was dead. They told him to bring it in, but when he went back he found that the other monkeys had carried off their dead comrade and none of them were to be seen.
Here is a case of the same kind, told by Sir William Hoste, an officer in India. It is of a still more affecting kind. We give it as told by a Mr. Jesse.
"One of his officers, coming home after a long day's shooting, saw a female monkey running along the rocks, with her young one in her arms. He immediately fired and the animal fell. On his coming up, she grasped her little one close to her breast, and with her other hand pointed to the wound which the ball had made, and which had entered above her breast. Dipping her finger in the blood, and then holding it up, she seemed to reproach him with being the cause of her death, and in consequence that of the young one, to which she frequently pointed."
When Sir William was told this affecting story he, as in the other cases cited, resolved never to shoot one of these animals as long as he lived.
Is not all this very human-like? The poor things, knowing that men are stronger than they and carry death-dealing weapons, do all they can to make them sorry for their cruelty and accuse them of murder. If they could talk they could not say more than these monkeys did in dumb show.
Monkeys are very fond of and tender to their young. One writer saw an American monkey driving away the flies that troubled her infant, and another saw a mother monkey washing the faces of her young ones in a stream. When their young die the mothers are very apt to die of grief. This we are told by Darwin, who further says: "Orphan monkeys are always adopted and carefully guarded by the other monkeys, both male and female."
An afternoon chat. Observe the close attention of the monkey and its care of its young
They also take care of those that are hurt. One writer tells us that he kept a number of Gibbons in his garden, living in the trees and coming down to be fed. One of them fell from a tree and sadly hurt its wrist. The others at once paid it great attention, and an old female, who was no relation to the crippled animal, fed it every day before eating any food herself. The writer goes on to say: "I have frequently noticed that a cry of fright, pain, or distress from one would bring all the others at once to the complainer, and they would then condole with him and fold him in their arms."
Captain Hugh Crow, in his "Narrative of my Life," tells a story of this kind which goes to show how tender the monkeys are to one another. On board his ship were a number of monkeys, of different kinds and sizes, among them a beautiful little one, only about ten inches long and no larger in body than a common drinking glass.
It was a playful little thing and a great favorite with the other monkeys, who looked on it as the pet of the family, treating it with a kindly feeling which they did not often show for one another. It became sick at length, of a disease that prevailed in the ship, and then their kindness and tenderness were doubled. He says:
"It was truly affecting and interesting to see with what anxiety and tenderness they tended and nursed the little creature. A struggle often ensued among them for priority in these offices of affection, and some would steal one thing and some another which they would carry to it untasted, however tempting it might be to their own palates. Then they would take it up gently in their fore-paws, hug it to their breasts, and cry over it as a fond mother would over her suffering child.
"The little creature seemed sensible of their kind attention, but it was sadly overcome by sickness. It would sometimes come to me and look me pitifully in the face and moan and cry like an infant, as if it besought me to give it relief; and we did everything we could think of to restore it to health; but in spite of the united attention of its kindred tribes and ourselves the interesting little creature did not survive long."
Sir James Malcolm tells us of two monkeys on shipboard, one older and larger than the other. They were not related, but merely friends, but were very fond of each other. One day the small monkey fell overboard. The older one was in a great excitement. It ran to the part of the ship which is called "the bend," held on to the side of the vessel with one hand, and dropped down to the other the end of a cord with which it had been tied up and which was fastened round its waist. Every one looked on with surprise at this display of monkey wit, but the cord was too short and the little one swept by. It is pleasant, however, to be able to say that it was saved by a sailor, who threw it a longer rope, which it seized and was drawn on board.
The monkey becomes as fond of its human friends as it is of those of its own race. Often it does not like certain people, and has its own way of showing this, but there are others whom it seems to love warmly. This faculty does not belong only to monkeys, but may be seen in dogs and other animals. But it is often strongly shown by the monkey.
Darwin tells of a keeper in the London Zoölogical Garden, who one day was attacked by a savage baboon. In the cage was a little American monkey, a great friend of the keeper, but very much afraid of the great baboon. But when the poor little thing saw its friend in peril it sprang at once to the rescue and by screams and bites so distracted the baboon that the keeper was able to escape. The little monkey quite forgot its fear of the fierce beast when it saw its friend in danger.
We rarely think what depth of feeling such an animal as the monkey may have. There are cases in which none of ourselves could show greater feeling. Here is a case in point.
On board a war-vessel that was going to Persia was a pet monkey of the captain, a gentle, kindly little creature that was made much of by every one on the ship. But like all of its kind it was not free from love of mischief. There was a goat kept on board to supply milk for the use of a government official on the ship. One morning it was found that the monkey had tied the goat to the tackle of a gun and milked it into the stiff hat of a marine.
The little culprit was caught in the act and taken to the captain, who to punish it gave orders that no one on board should take notice of it for a week. The loving little thing did not know what to make of this. It went about from friend to friend, looking up to them wistfully, but not getting a word or a kind look from any of them. It put on its most coaxing airs, but all in vain. For two days it bore this, but on the morning of the third, finding that it was still in disgrace, its tender heart was quite broken. It sprang on the bulwarks, put its hands over its head, gave one pitiful cry and leaped into the sea. It was seen no more.
To be fond of mischief and of playing jokes is a common trait in monkeys as it is in boys. This likeness is shown by the tricks of boys being called "Monkey tricks." Perhaps they would not play them if they knew that they were putting themselves on the level of the monkey. Stories of this tendency are common enough. Here is one told of a young chimpanzee who bore the familiar name of Tommy, and who lived in a cage in the Zoölogical Garden of London.
Master Tommy did not at all approve of tricks that were played upon himself, though he was very fond of playing them on others. Thus one day when a carpenter had to enter his cage to make some changes the little joker was in his element. He played all kinds of tricks on the workman, such as pulling his hair, snatching off his paper cap, stealing his tools, and even trying to trip him up. All the time he put on an air of innocence and only came up when he thought he was not seen. The moment the joke was played he retreated to the other end of the cage, where he seemed very much interested in something else.
In the end, when the carpenter had his back to him, Master Tommy could not resist the temptation, but sprang on the man's shoulders and gave him such a sound box on the ears that the keeper, who had been enjoying the fun, had to interfere and make the little rascal behave himself.
On another occasion Tommy in some way got a small dog into his cage, and had the time of his life with the little victim. He pulled its ears and tail till the dog lost its temper and began to show its teeth. At this Master Tommy pretended to be very indignant, and lifted his hand in a threatening way, as if to chastise doggie for his impudence. He would do the same with children if he got a chance, pulling their hair or clothes or scratching them.
In fact, he was a little imp of mischief, yet had been taught to be very neat and nice in his habits, to pick his teeth, clean his nails, and do other acts supposed to belong to the human race. Like man also he could walk erect, jump on his hind feet and dance in the stamping fashion of a child a few years old, though with greater force.
We must close our stories of monkey wit and wisdom with one that comes from South Africa, of a monkey that acted as signal man on a railroad. This is the story, as told in Chambers' Journal.
"We had a remarkably intelligent baboon here a few years ago. He was a giant of his species. His master and trainer had the misfortune to have both his legs cut off in a railway accident, and on his leaving the hospital the Cape government gave him a berth as signal man. He taught this baboon not only to work the signals, but to place the wheels of a little trolley on the line, and then the bed on the wheels. His master would then seat himself on the trolley and Jocko would push him along to his house, about two hundred yards down the line. He would then detach the pieces of the trolley and clear them off the line. He would also lock the door of the signal-box and take the key to his master."
VIII
OTHER ANIMALS USED AS PETS
We have now gone far and near among the animals kept by man, have seen them at work and at play, on farm and on road, in doors and out of doors, some helping him, some amusing him, some supplying him with food and clothes. But so far we have kept among the animals of common use. There are others not so often kept and at some of these we must take a passing glance before we finish our journey.
Man, you know, is only one among many thousands of kinds of animals which dwell upon the earth. These are found everywhere, from the hot equator almost to the frozen poles. The most of them, of course, live in warm regions, but away up in the seas of ice may be seen creatures clad in thick wool and fur and finding food under the snows. So there is hardly any part of the earth without its living beings.
Some of these animals are so savage that man rarely tries to tame them. The fierce lion and tiger, the ferocious grizzly bear, the huge and stupid rhinoceros, and many others of the same wild sort are shown us at times in menageries. But we look at them through the iron bars of their cages. If any of them should get out of the cage we would hasten to get out of the show.
Even these fierce animals at times grow tame enough for men and women to go into their cages and teach them some simple tricks. But they are never safe to deal with, and we are always glad to see the tamers of lions and other wild beasts come out of the cages alive.
It is not such creatures as these that man makes use of. He has picked out those of gentle nature, the grass eaters, not the flesh eaters. The dog and cat, it is true, are flesh eaters, but the dog is an animal that is easily tamed and becomes one of man's best friends. As for the cat, it rarely becomes quite tame. Its wildwood ways cling to it still.
Animals fitted for man's use are found in all parts of the earth, but the tame ones mostly came from Europe and Asia, the countries in which civilization first began. Here are the native places of the horse and the cow, the sheep, goat and pig, the hen, duck and goose, and nearly all the other animals found about our homes.
There is no continent with a greater variety of animals than Africa, but few of these have been tamed, and this mostly in the civilized north, for the people of that continent have long been in a savage or barbarian state, and have been hunters instead of tamers of animals. It has been the same in America. When white men came here they brought their home animals with them and there was no need to tame those found in this new continent. The only ones tamed by the Indians were the dog and the Peruvian llama, and nearly the only one added by the white man has been the turkey. The rest of our animals, like our forefathers themselves, came from abroad.
Though we have dealt with the chief animals kept by man, for use or as pets, there are many others which have been at times tamed and made into friends and comrades, and it may be well to speak of such of these as seem of most interest.
Men and women have a natural love for pets and sometimes pick out very odd ones. You know what the flea is—or if you do not know it is all the better, for the flea's way of making itself known is by biting. Yet even these small pests have been taught to do things, such as being harnessed to little carriages, which they drag about in a way to please those who are near enough to see them.
A strong little insect is the flea. It can leap, we are told, two hundred times its length, while few of us can jump twice our length. And it can pull a heavy weight for a creature of its size. But it is not tamed nor taught. It is simply tied fast and pulls to get loose, and in this way draws its carriage. So to talk about learned fleas is to talk nonsense and most of us would be satisfied if there were no such thing as a flea.
There are other insects which man has at times taken under his care, the ant, for instance, and some others. But these also are not tamed, they are simply studied and made use of in various ways. When we talk of taming animals we must come to those of a higher order, such as the birds and the four-footed creatures. We speak at times of the fish being tamed, but this is only from its losing its fear of man and taking food from his hands. It has not brain power enough for much more than this.
Yet man at times makes a pet of the fish, which he keeps in the little table pond called the aquarium as he keeps his bird pets in the cage, and of these fish pets a few words may be said.