We now leave the true monkeys of the Old World, and pass to those of the New. I say the true monkeys, because we shall, in the course of the present paper, recur to a portion of the Old World, as certain beings are found there which undoubtedly belong to the quadrumanous order, but which depart in many points from the characteristics of the true monkeys.
The rulers of the Zoological Gardens have done rightly in transferring the greater number of the New World monkeys to a separate building. Their peculiar temperament requires extended space, and their delicate lungs need a combination of warmth and fresh air that cannot be obtained except in a building devoted to the purpose.
Black-faced Spider Monkey.—[Page 259.]
Next to the Reptile House the visitor will see another door, upon which is a placard calling attention to the Spider Monkeys. Passing up a few stairs, we come to a room the centre of which is occupied by a magnificent wire cage. In this cage are placed four specimens of the Spider Monkey, a few lemurs, and a single specimen of the Moustache Monkey, a creature which has been described at page 250 of our volume. This little animal has been transferred to the Spider Monkeys’ cage for the purpose of enlivening the normal inhabitants, who have a custom of squatting together on the floor, winding their prehensile tails around the general assemblage, and scolding every one who tries to disturb them.
There are three specimens of the Black-faced Spider Monkey (Ateles frontatus), and one of the Greyish Spider Monkey (Ateles hybridus). The latter animal can be at once recognised by the colour of its fur, which is of a very light and nearly white grey, the hair being rather long and coarse. The others are all known by their darker colour, a blackish brown pervading their whole bodies, and their faces being darker than the rest of their persons. One specimen of the Black-faced Spider Monkey is in excellent health and spirits, and seldom fails to afford its visitors the gratification of seeing it go through its wonderful performances.
It has a regular series of feats, and goes through them as systematically as if it were an acrobat performing before the public. First it climbs up the wires until it has reached the longitudinal rafter that runs along the top of the cage. Along this rafter it springs, holding only by its hands, and swings along, hand over hand, with a certainty and lightness that are peculiarly beautiful.
Having arrived at the other end of the rafter it grasps a rope, launches itself into mid-air, swings once or twice, and then transfers itself to a second rope, by means of which it swings diagonally across the cage, lands safely upon the wires, and then goes to rejoin its companions.
When the four Spider Monkeys choose to gather themselves together, scarcely any inducement can separate them. By a very necessary rule, no one is allowed to feed the creatures in this room, so that these monkeys cannot be enticed away from their companionship, and the cage is so large, that, even if ill-conditioned visitors were to attempt to use violence, they could not succeed.
I hope that the young observer will lose no time in proceeding to the Zoological Gardens and examining the peculiarities of the Spider Monkeys, because all the quadrumana are delicate beings at the best, and these South American species are peculiarly affected by our climate.