CHAPTER V
Pedro’s Speech Recorded—Delivered to Puck through the Phonograph—Little Darwin Learns a New Word
In the Washington collection there was once a Capuchin monkey by the name of Pedro. When I first visited this bright little fellow he occupied a cage in common with several other monkeys of different kinds. All of them seemed to impose upon little Pedro, and a mischievous young spider-monkey found special delight in catching him by the tail and dragging him about the floor of the cage. I interfered on behalf of Pedro and drove the spider-monkey away. Pedro appreciated this and began to look upon me as a benefactor. When he saw me he would scream to attract my attention and then beg for me to come to him. I induced the keeper to place him by himself in a small cage. This seemed to please him very much. When I went to record his sounds on the phonograph, I held him on my arm. He took the tube into his tiny, black hands, held it close up to his mouth and talked into it just like a good little boy who knew what to do and how to do it. He sometimes laughed, and he frequently chattered to me as long as he could see me. He would sit on my hand and kiss my cheeks, put his mouth up to my ear and chatter just as though he knew what my ears were for. He was quite fond of the head-keeper and also of the director; but he entertained a great dislike for one of the assistant keepers. He often told me some very bad things about that man, though I could not understand what he said. I shall long remember how this dear little monkey used to cuddle under my chin and try to make me understand some sad story which seemed to be the burden of his life. He readily understood the sounds of his own speech when repeated to him, and I made some of the best records of his voice that I ever succeeded in making of any monkey. Some of them I preserved for a long time. They displayed a wide range of sounds, and I studied them with special care and pleasure, because I knew that they were addressed to me. Being aware that the little creature was uttering these sounds to me with the hope that I would understand them, I was more anxious to learn just what he really meant than if it had contained only something addressed to another. This little simian was born in the Amazon Valley, in Brazil, and was named for the late emperor, Dom Pedro.
At one time I borrowed from a dealer a little Capuchin called Puck, and had him sent to my apartments, where I had a phonograph. I placed the cage in front of the machine, upon which had been adjusted the record of my little friend Pedro. I concealed myself in an adjoining room, where, through a small hole in the door, I could watch the conduct of Puck. A string was attached to the lever of the machine, drawn taut, and passed through another hole in the door. By this means the machine could be started without attracting the attention of the monkey through his seeing anything move. When everything in the room was quiet the machine was set in motion, and Puck was treated to a phonographic recital by Pedro. This speech was distinctly delivered through the horn to the monkey. From his actions it was evident that he recognized it as the voice of one of his tribe. He looked with surprise at the horn, made a sound or two, glanced around the room, and again uttered two or three sounds. Apparently somewhat afraid, he retired from the horn. Again the horn delivered some sounds of pure Capuchin speech. Puck seemed to regard them as sounds of some importance. He advanced cautiously and made a feeble response; but a quick, sharp sound from the horn startled him; and failing to find anything indicating a monkey, except the sound of the voice, he looked with evident suspicion at the horn, and scarcely ventured to answer any sound it made.
When the contents of the record had been delivered to him I entered the room. This relieved his fear of the horn. A little later the apparatus was again adjusted, and a small mirror was hung just above the mouth of the horn. Again retiring from the room, I left him to examine his new surroundings. He soon discovered the monkey in the glass, and began to caress it and chatter to it. Again the phonograph was started by means of the string, and when the horn began to deliver its simian oration, it greatly disconcerted and perplexed Puck. He looked at the image in the glass and then into the horn. He retired with a feeble grunt and an inquisitive grin, showing his little white teeth, and acting as though in doubt whether to regard the affair as a joke, or to treat it as a grim and scientific fact. His voice and actions were like those of a child, declaring in words that he was not afraid, and at the same time betraying fear in every act. Puck did not cry, but his intense fear made the grin on his face rather ghastly. Again he approached the mirror and listened to the sounds which came from the horn. His conduct betrayed the conflict in his little soul. It was evident that he did not believe the monkey which he saw in the glass was making the sounds which came from the horn. He repeatedly put his mouth to the glass and caressed the image, but tried at the same time to avoid the monkey which he heard in the horn. His conduct in this instance was a source of surprise, as the sounds contained in the record were all uttered in a mood of anxious, earnest entreaty, which contained no sound of anger, warning, or alarm, but, on the contrary, appeared to be a kind of love-speech. I had not learned the exact meaning of any one of the sounds contained in this cylinder, but in a collective and general way had ascribed such meaning to them. From Puck’s conduct it was to be inferred that this was some kind of complaint against those monkeys occupying the other cage. They had made life a burden to little Pedro. It was evident that Puck interpreted the actions of the monkey seen in the glass to mean one thing, and the sounds that came from the horn to mean quite another.
Their language is not capable of relating narratives or giving details in a complaint, but in general terms of grievance it may have conveyed to Puck the idea of a monkey in distress, and hence his desire to avoid it. The image in the glass presented to him a picture of a monkey in a happy mood, and he therefore had no cause to shun it.
The speech used by monkeys is not of a high order, but it appears to have been developed from an inferior type. Some species among them have much more copious and expressive forms of speech than others. From many experiments with the phonograph I conclude that some have much higher phonetic types than others. I have found slight inflections that seem to modify the values of their sounds. Certain monkeys do not make certain inflections at all, although in other respects the phonation of a species is generally uniform. In some cases it appears that the inflections differ slightly in the same species, but long and constant association tends in some degree to unify these dialects much the same as like causes blend and unify the dialects of human speech.
I observed one instance in which a Capuchin had acquired two sounds which strictly belonged to the tongue of the white-faced Cebus. At first I suspected that these sounds were common to the speech of both varieties; but on inquiry it was found that this brown Cebus had been confined for some years in a cage with the white-face, during which time he had acquired them.
The most interesting case that I have to record is one in which a young white-faced Cebus acquired the Capuchin sound for food. This occurred under my own observation, and, being attended by such conditions as to show that the monkey had a motive in learning the sound, I regard it as most noteworthy.
In the room where the monkeys were kept by a dealer in Washington, there was a cage containing the young Cebus in question. He was of rather more than average intelligence. He was a quiet, sedate, and thoughtful little monkey. His gray hair and beard gave him quite a venerable aspect, and for this reason I called him Darwin. For some reason he was afraid of me, and I gave him but little attention. In an adjacent cage lived the little brown Cebus, called Puck. The cages were only separated by an open wire partition, through which they could easily see and hear each other. For some weeks I visited Puck almost daily, and in response to his sound for food, I supplied him with nuts, bananas, or other food. I never gave him anything to eat unless he asked me for it in his own speech.
On one occasion my attention was attracted by little Darwin, who was making a strange sound, such as I had never before heard one of his species utter. At first I did not recognize the sound, but finally discovered that it was intended to imitate the sound of the brown monkey, in response to which I always gave him some nice morsel of food. Darwin had observed that when Puck made this sound he was always rewarded with something to eat, and his own evident motive was to secure a like reward. After this I gave him a bit of food in acknowledgment of his efforts. From day to day he improved in making the sound, until at length it could scarcely be detected from that made by Puck. This was accomplished within a period of less than six weeks from the time of my first visit. In this instance, at least, I have witnessed one step taken by a monkey, in learning the speech of another. This was doubly interesting to me in view of the fact that I had long believed, and had announced the belief, that no monkey ever tried to acquire the sounds made by one of another species. This instance alone was sufficient to cause me to recede from a conclusion thus rendered untenable; and the short time in which the feat was accomplished would indicate that the difficulty is not so great as it had been regarded. As a rule, monkeys do not learn each other’s speech; but the rule is not without exceptions. I had previously observed, and called attention to the fact, that when two monkeys of different species are caged together, each one learns to understand the speech of the other, but does not try to speak it. When he replies at all, it is in his own vernacular. Monkeys do not essay to carry on a connected conversation. Their speech is usually limited to a single sound or word, and it is answered in the same manner. To suppose that they converse in an elaborate manner is to go beyond the bounds of reason. In this respect, the masses fail to understand the real nature of the speech of monkeys or other animals.