Maphoon, when Captain Youle saw her, had two children, one, the eldest, perfectly normal, the other, who was very young, was evidently taking after its mother.
The Aïnos, an aboriginal tribe in the north of Japan, who are looked down upon by the Japanese as dogs, have always been reputed as being covered with hair. Mr. W. Martin Wood read a paper before the Ethnological Society of London[26] respecting them, and he said, “Esau himself could not have been a more hairy man than are these Aïnos. The hair forms an enormous bush, and it is thick and matted. Their beards are very thick and long, and the greater part of their face is covered with hair which is generally dark in colour; they have prominent foreheads, and mild, dark eyes, which somewhat relieve the savage aspect of their visage. Their hands and arms, and, indeed, the greater part of their bodies, are covered with an abnormal profusion of hair.”
This, however, has been questioned, notably by Mr. Barnard Davis, whose paper may be read in the 3rd vol. of the “Memoirs of the Anthropological Society of London”—and he quotes from several travellers, to prove that the hairyness of the Aïnos had been exaggerated. However, Miss Bird in her “Unbeaten Tracks in Japan” may fairly be said to have put the subject at rest, for
she visited, and travelled in the Aïno country. She, certainly, disproves the theory that, as a race, they were hairy, although she confesses that some were—as, for instance (p. 232), “They wore no clothing, but only one was hairy,” and, writing from Biratori, Yezo (p. 255), she says, “The men are about the middle height, broad-chested, broad-shouldered, thick set, very strongly built, the arms and legs short, thick, and muscular, the hands and feet large. The bodies, and especially the limbs of many, are covered with short, bristly hair. I have seen two boys whose backs are covered with fur as fine, and soft, as that of a cat.” Again (p. 283), “The profusion of black hair, and a curious intensity about their eyes, coupled with the hairy limbs and singularly vigorous physique, give them a formidably savage appearance; but the smile, full of ‘sweetness and light,’ in which both eyes and mouth bear part, and the low, musical voice, softer and sweeter than anything I have previously heard, make me, at times, forget that they are savages at all.”
The Ouran Outan.
Transition from hirsute humanity to the apes, is easy, and natural—and we need only deal with the Simiinæ, which includes the Orang, the Chimpanzee, and the Gorilla. These are the largest apes, and nearest approach to man—but, although they may be tailless, yet there is that short great toe which prevents any acceptation of their humanity. The orang is exclusively an inhabitant of Borneo and Sumatra, and in those two islands it may be found in the swampy forests near the coast. It grows to a large size, for an ape, about four feet four inches high, but is neither so large, nor so
strong, as the Gorilla. Compared with man, its arms seem to be as extravagantly long, as its legs are ridiculously short. When wild, it feeds entirely on vegetable diet, and makes a kind of house, or nest, in trees, interweaving the branches, so as to obtain shelter. They do not stand confinement well, being languid and miserable—but, in their native wildness, they can, if necessity arises, fight well in their own defence. A. R. Wallace, in his “Malay Archipelago; the Land of the Orang Utan and the Bird of Paradise,” tells the following story of its combativeness.
“A few miles down the river there is a Dyak house, and the inhabitants saw a large orang feeding on the young shoots of a palm by the river side. On being alarmed, he retreated towards the jungle, which was close by, and a number of the men, armed with spears and choppers, ran out to intercept him. The man who was in front, tried to run his spear through the animal’s body, but the orang seized it in his hands, and in an instant got hold of the man’s arm, which he seized in his mouth, making his teeth meet in the flesh above the elbow, which he tore and lacerated in a dreadful manner. Had not the others been close behind, the man would have been seriously injured, if not killed, as he was quite powerless; but they soon destroyed the creature with their spears and choppers. The man remained ill for a long time, and never fully recovered the use of his arm.”
It is called the Simia Satyrus; probably on its presumed lustfulness, certainly not on account of its resemblance to the satyr of antiquity.
Gesner gives us his idea of the orang, presenting us with the accompanying figure of the Cercopithecus, and