The Cercopitheci likewise possess a large tail, which is, however, not more or less pendulous, as in the semnopitheci, but generally carried erect over the back. They have also a longer face, and their cheeks are furnished with pouches, in which, like the pelican or the hamster, they are capable of stowing part of their food; an organisation which seems to denote that they are inhabitants of a country where the forests are less extensive. They are not devoid of intelligence, but extremely restless and noisy. Many that were mild and amiable while young, undergo at a later period a complete change of character. The only way, according to M. Isidore Geoffroy, to curb the temper of one of these full-grown monkeys is to extract the sharp and formidable canine teeth, with which it is capable of inflicting the most dangerous wounds. When disarmed, it immediately alters its manners, as it now feels its impotence. Several of the monkeys belonging to this group are distinguished by the lively colours of their fur; that of the Diana Monkey (Cercopithecus diana) among others, which is a native of Congo and Guinea, sells for a considerable price.

Nothing can be more amusing to the disinterested spectator or more provoking to the proprietor than to witness the operations of a troop of Cercopitheci while plundering a dhourra or maize field. Under the guidance of an old and experienced male, the impudent robbers set out on their foraging expedition. The female monkeys carry with them their young ones, who, clasping their mother’s neck with their fore-feet, sometimes also wind their little caudal appendages as an additional support round her tail. At first the band approaches with great caution, the leader constantly at its head, and the others following from branch to branch. Sometimes he climbs to the top of a high tree for the purpose of reconnoitring, and finding all safe, a few tranquillising guttural sounds make known to his followers the satisfactory results of his inspection. Alighting from the tree nearest to the field, a few leaps bring them to the scene of action, where their first care is to stuff their wide cheek pouches with provender as fast as they can. This done, they allow themselves more leisure and at the same time become more choice in the selection of their food. Every ear of maize or dhourra after having been plucked from the plant is now carefully examined, and if not approved of, thrown away. When a monkey has an abundance of food at his disposal, he will spoil at least ten times more than he eats. The troop now feeling itself thoroughly secure, the mothers allow their young, who are generally kept under strict control, to leave them and amuse themselves with their play-fellows. The little creatures, who by the bye are intensely ugly, have been so well brought up that at the first sound of alarm they immediately return to their mothers, who, like all other members of the band, implicitly rely upon the watchfulness of the leader.

From time to time this cautious ‘old gentleman’ will interrupt the most savoury repast, raise himself on his hind-legs, stand upright like a man, and look about him. A single inimitable gurgling tone of alarm gathers in a moment the troop of his followers; the mothers recall their young ones, and all are instantly ready for flight; each carrying with him as much provender as he can. The nearest tree is ascended in a trice, and from this starting point the hurried flight goes on from branch to branch. The expertness of the monkeys in climbing and springing is indeed wonderful, and surpasses that of all other animals. For them there is no impediment: the sharpest thorns, the thickest hedges—nothing retards them. The most daring leaps are executed with an admirable ease. Seizing a high branch with its outstretched hand, a monkey will swing himself upon it, a feat which no cat or squirrel can imitate; or he will throw himself from the summit of a tree upon a branch far below, which bends under the sudden shock of his weight, and then makes use of the recoil to perform a mighty horizontal bound. While this precipitate flight is going on, the leader still directs the movements of the band, which only relaxes in its haste when he thinks proper. All this time they show not the least signs of confusion, and such is their presence of mind that it preserves them from all danger. In fact they have no enemies to fear but other monkeys and the serpents; for they easily get out of the reach of the larger beasts of prey, and no bird will attack them, as it well knows that it would be at once assailed by a whole band. Thus a life as void of care as life can be, has fallen to the lot of these free denizens of the forest.

Brehm relates an affecting instance of parental friendship in a tame male Cercopithecus. Koko (as the monkey was called) had adopted a young one of the same species, still very much in want of his mother’s assistance. He treated it with all the affection of a parent, watched over it while eating, and warmed it at night in his arms. He was constantly anxious about its welfare, got uneasy when it strayed away only a few paces, and called it immediately back again at the least apprehension of danger. When Brehm tried to remove it, he got furious and defended his adopted child with all his might. Thus both monkeys lived together several months, when the young one fell ill and soon after died. The sorrow of the bereaved foster-father was excessive, not like that of an animal, but similar to the grief of a deeply-feeling man. At first he took the stiffening body in his arms, caressed it in all possible manners, and attended upon it as before, with the tenderest care. He then placed it in a sitting posture before him, looked at it attentively, and uttered a plaintive cry when he saw it collapse. Again and again he tried to recall it to life; and every time he uttered a loud cry when he saw that his favourite remained dead. The whole day he took no food, the dead little monkey occupied him constantly. At length Brehm took away the body by force and threw it over the high wall of the courtyard into the garden. But in a few minutes the monkey had bitten the strong rope through to which he was fastened, sprang over the wall and returned with the body in his arms. Brehm now again bound him fast, took the dead body away and threw it into a deep well. The monkey immediately freed himself once more from his bonds, remained for hours searching for the body, and then left the house for ever. In the evening of the same day he was seen on his way to the woods. ‘To call such and similar actions instinct,’ says Brehm, ‘would be ridiculous. They are proofs of intellect and deep feeling. There are apes who surpass many obtuse members of the human race in sense, and their intelligence grows by experience, as I have frequently observed in tame monkeys. Without hesitation we may rank the simiæ next to man as the most highly developed animals, not only in their physical organisation, but also in intelligence.’

The tribes of the Mangabeys, Macaques, Magots, and Cynopitheci form the links between the cercopitheci and the baboons. Their shape is less slender than that of the former, their frontal bone is more developed, particularly above the eyebrows, and their face is longer. They are all of them provided with cheek-pouches. Several of the macaques have a very short tail, and the magots, or Barbary apes, and the cynopithecus of the Philippine Islands, have none, thus resembling the large anthropomorphous apes, but widely differing from them in other respects.

The Magot is the only European species, and seems exclusively confined in our part of the world to the rock of Gibraltar, though some authors affirm that it is found in other parts of Andalusia, and even in the province of Grenada. It would no doubt long since have been extirpated, if the British Government had not taken it under its especial protection, and imposed the penalty of a heavy fine upon its wanton destruction.

The Cynocephali (Baboons and Mandrills) show at once by their Greek name that a dog-like snout gives them a more bestial expression than belongs to the rest of the monkey tribes, and that of all the simiæ of the Old World they are most widely distant from man. In size they are only surpassed by the gorilla and the uran, and if in the latter the physiognomy becomes more brutal in its expression with advancing age, this degradation is much greater in the baboons.

Their canine teeth in particular acquire a greater sharpness than those of almost every other carnivorous animal, so that these malignant and cruel animals, armed with such powerful weapons, may well be reckoned among the most formidable of the wild beasts of Africa. As if to render them complete pictures of depravity, their manners also are so shamelessly filthy, that the curiosity they excite soon changes into horror and disgust.

The short-tailed mandrills inhabit the west coast of Africa. The Maimon is the most remarkable of the whole genus for brilliancy and variety of colour; its furrowed cheeks are magnificently striped with violet, blue, purple, and scarlet, so as more to resemble an artificial tattooing than a natural carnation. As the creature increases in age, the nose also becomes blood-red. On the loins the skin is almost bare, and of a violet-blue colour, gradually altering into a bright blood-red, which is more conspicuous on the hinder parts, where it surrounds the tail, which is generally carried erect.

Even among the base mandrills there are some which maintain in confinement the milder character of their youth, and on whom education has had such influence as to allow them to be introduced into company without fear of a too flagitious breach of decorum. One of these pattern animals was ‘Happy Jerry,’ long kept in a London menagerie, and who gained such fame by his good manners as to be honoured by a special invitation to Windsor. Jerry knew how to sit upon a chair, and worthily to fill it, as he was nearly five feet long. He relished his pot of porter, which he used to drink out of a pewter can, and smoked his pipe with all the gravity of a German philosopher. But even Jerry was not to be trusted out of the sight of his keepers.