Animal Intelligence / The International Scientific Series, Vol. XLIV.

by George John Romanes

29th. I notice that nothing the person does who has hold of his chain offends him. I mean, although he is furiously angry at having anything taken away from him, he is not at all angry if he is pulled away by his chain. If he is trying to bite a person, and another person takes hold of his chain behind him and so prevents his spring forward, he does not turn to bite the person who has taken hold of his chain, as a dog would do under similar circumstances, but quietly submits to be thus held. He seems to look upon his confinement and management by a chain as a natural law against which it is useless to struggle. On the other hand, he seems to be quite aware of the place where his chain is fastened, and to know that if he were clever enough to undo it he would be free. After we found he could move about the marble slab of the washhand-stand in the way described, we had a ring sunk in the floor to tie him to. The moment the chain was fastened to that[282] he began to investigate its new connection, and continued to do so for hours, passing the chain rapidly backward and forwards through the ring. When he found this did not loosen it, he began to hammer it and the ring also with all his strength, and this he continued to do for the rest of the day.

30th. He still continues to work at the chain where it is fastened to the ring. He passed the whole of the chain through the ring so many times with his fingers that it became quite blocked up in the ring, which made it very short, and it took me a quarter of an hour to disentangle it. He was very much interested in this process, sitting quietly beside me and watching my fingers intently, sometimes gently pulling my fingers on one side in order to see better, and sometimes casting a quick intelligent glance into my face as if asking how I did it. After I had disentangled and lengthened the chain he worked at it again for hours, but took care not to twist it into the ring a second time.

31st. To-day he hurt himself by getting one of his toes caught in a hinge of the clothes-horse. He did not make any fuss, although the accident must have been somewhat a painful one, nor did he try to pull the toe out, which would have been useless and only hurt him more; but he sat almost motionless, making slight complaining noises until I discovered that there was something wrong with him. When I began to extricate his foot, he remained perfectly passive—although I dare say I hurt him a good deal—and only looked at me gratefully.

January 1, 1881. He has now quite given up trying to loosen his chain himself; having tried every way and failed, he has evidently become hopeless about it. He now resents being tied up. When I loosen him he is quite pleased, and when I tie him he waits until he is quite sure he is being tied, and not loosened, and then he flies at me and bites me.

10th. As he is always tied up in the same place he has no new opportunities given him of showing his intelligence. His attachment to my mother has increased. When she goes out he immediately gives up all play and mischief, and does nothing but run round and round in a restless manner, making a peculiar sweet calling noise, such as he never makes when she is in the room, listening intently between times. As long as she remains away he takes no rest or amusement, nor does he ever, or hardly ever, become angry; but the moment she returns he begins all his old ways again, usually becoming more savage at other people than before.

My mother frequently takes things away from him, and he never resents it to her as he would do to any other person. He generally, however, chatters angrily at some one else when my mother removes anything he wishes to keep. At first I thought he was deceived in the matter—that he could not believe it possible that his best friend could deprive him of what he valued, and so thought someone else must have done it. But the same thing has now happened so frequently that I can hardly think he is not really aware of who takes the things away. He seems rather to think it politic to keep on good terms with one person, and that although he does see her remove the things, and feels angry in consequence, he thinks it more prudent to vent his anger upon someone with whom he has already quarrelled. He always shows more irritation when my mother gives anything to me after having taken it away from him, than when she keeps it herself (as mentioned on December 26), and this may be the reason partly why he resents these matters to me; he thinks when I obtain possession of anything he wants that it is a sort of triumph to me. In the same way my mother may laugh as much as she likes whether he is with her or not, but if I laugh at all at anything it generally results in something being thrown at me. If my mother calls out to the servants—if, for instance, a servant has left the room and my mother calls her back—he becomes very angry at the servant, and salutes her on her return with a shower of missiles. Sometimes my mother pretends to scold or beat the servants, and then he joins with great energy, by way of supporting his friend. If I scold or beat the servants he does not mind so much. When my mother comes back after being out he does not show any great demonstrations of joy. He screams out with pleasure when he hears her voice approaching on the stairs, but does not make much ado when she enters the room. While my mother is out I can do anything I like with him, just as she can when she is at home. Perhaps being in low spirits he does not feel angry, or perhaps he thinks it prudent to be amiable when his best friend is away. When my mother comes back, all his ill-temper returns at once and even in an increased degree towards other people, and he immediately resumes playing with all his toys.

11th. When he throws things at people now he first runs up the bars of the clothes-horse; he seems to have found out that people do not much care for having things thrown at their feet, and he is not strong enough to throw such heavy objects as a poker or a hammer at people's heads; he therefore mounts to a level with his enemy's head, and thus succeeds in sending his missile to a greater height and also to a greater distance.

14th. To-day he obtained possession of a hearth-brush, one of the kind which has the handle screwed into the brush. He soon found the way to unscrew the handle, and having done that he immediately began to try to find out the way to screw it in again. This he in time accomplished. At first he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole, but turned it round and round the right way for screwing. Finding it did not hold, he turned the other end of the handle and carefully stuck it into the hole, and began again to turn it the right way. It was of course a very difficult feat for him to perform, for he required both his hands to hold the handle in the proper position and to turn it between his hands in order to screw it in, and the long bristles of the brush prevented it from remaining steady or with the right side up. He held the brush with his hind hand, but even so it was very difficult for him to get the first turn of the screw to fit into the thread; he worked at it, however, with the most unwearying perseverance until he got the first turn of the screw to catch, and he then quickly turned it round and round until it was screwed up to the end. The most remarkable thing was that, however often he was disappointed in the beginning, he never was induced to try turning the handle the wrong way; he always screwed it from right to left. As soon as he had accomplished his wish, he unscrewed it again, and then screwed it in again the second time rather more easily than the first, and so on many times. When he had become by practice tolerably perfect in screwing and unscrewing, he gave it up and took to some other amusement. One remarkable thing is that he should take so much trouble to do that which is no material benefit to him. The desire to accomplish a chosen task seems a sufficient inducement to lead him to take any amount of trouble. This seems a very human feeling, such as is not shown, I believe, by any other animal. It is not the desire of praise, as he never notices people looking on; it is simply the desire to achieve an object for the sake of achieving an object, and he never rests nor allows his attention to be distracted until it is done.

16th. When he is angry, and has at hand only those things which he wishes to keep, he makes a great show of throwing them at people, but always retains a hold. Thus if he has had a plaything a long time and is tired of it, he throws it right at a person without the least hesitation; but if he has a new thing which he values, he goes through all the appropriate motions for throwing, but only brings the object down with a noise upon the ground, taking care not to let go his hold. He beats people with a long cane he has, and when he cannot reach people he strikes it with all his strength upon the ground to show what he would do if he had the chance. There is no more comical sight than to see him hurriedly climbing his screen in fierce anger, taking (not without great difficulty) his long and awkward stick up with him in order to be high enough to give a good blow to a person. The dog is quite afraid of the stick in the monkey's hands, although he is too petted to be afraid of it in a person's. The monkey is jealous of the dog lying in the arm-chair in which he sometimes seats himself with my mother, so he pokes the stick at the dog (as the chair is beyond the reach of his chain) and makes him get off.

18th. He was very angry to-day at a servant girl sweeping out his place with a long brush, and he seized the brush every time the servant attempted to sweep. My mother then took it, and he at once became not only quite good-tempered, but assisted her in sweeping, by gathering the rubbish in the corners of his place into little heaps with his hands, and putting the heaps into the way of the brush.