Gorillas & Chimpanzees

by R. L. Garner

I spent much time in entertaining him in this way, and felt amply repaid for it in the gratification it afforded him. I could not resist his overtures to play, as he was my companion and my friend, and, living in that solitary gloom, it was a mutual pleasure.

Another occasion on which he used to peep at me was when he lay down to take his midday nap. For this I had made him a little hammock, which was suspended by wires, so that it could be removed when not in use. I always hung this by my side in the cage, so I could swing him to sleep like a child. He liked this, and I liked to indulge him. When he was laid in it, he was usually covered up with a small piece of canvas, and in spreading it over him, I frequently laid the edge of it over his eyes, but he seemed to suspect me of having some motive in doing so. Often he would reach his fingers up, catch the edge of the cloth, and gently draw it down, so he could see what I was doing. If he saw that he was detected, he would quickly release it, and cuddle down, as if it had been done by accident; but the little rogue knew, just as well as I did, what it meant to peep.

I also made him another hammock, and hung it out a few yards from the cage, so he could get into it without bothering me; but he never cared for it, until I brought a young gorilla to live with us in our jungle home, and as Moses never used it, I assigned it to the new member of the household. Whenever the gorilla got into it there was a small row about it. Moses would never allow him to occupy it in peace. He seemed to know that it was his own by right, and the gorilla was regarded as an intruder. He would push and shove the gorilla, grunt and whine and quarrel, until he got him out of it; but after doing so he would leave it, and climb up into a bush, or go away to hunt something to eat. He only wanted to dispossess the intruder, for whom he nursed an inordinate jealousy. He never went near the gorilla's little house, which was on the opposite side of the cage from his own; even after the gorilla died, he kept aloof from it.

As a rule, I always took Moses with me in my rambles into the forest, and I found him to be quite useful in one way. His eyes were like the lens of a camera​—​nothing escaped them; and when he discovered anything in the jungle, he always made it known by a peculiar sound. He could not point it out with his finger, but by watching his eyes the object could often be located.

Frequently during these tours the ape rode on my shoulders, and at other times the boy carried him, but occasionally he was put down on the ground to walk. If we travelled at a very slow pace, and allowed him to stroll along at leisure, he was content to do so, but if hurried beyond a certain gait he always made a display of his temper. He would turn on the boy and attack him, if possible; but if the boy escaped, the angry little ape would throw himself down on the ground, scream, kick, and beat the earth with his own head and hands in the most violent and persistent manner. He sometimes did the same way when not allowed to have what he wanted. His conduct was exactly like that of a spoiled, ugly child.

He had a certain amount of ingenuity, and often evinced a degree of reason which was rather unexpected. It was not a rare thing for him to solve some problem that involved a study of cause and effect, but always in a limited degree. I would not be understood to mean that he could work out any abstract problem, such as belongs to the realm of mathematics, but simple, concrete problems, where the object was present.

On one occasion, while walking through the forest we came to a small stream of water. The boy and myself stepped across it, leaving Moses to get over it without help. He disliked getting his feet wet, and paused to be lifted across. We walked a few steps away, and waited. He looked up and down the branch to see if there was any way to avoid it. He walked back and forth a few yards, but found no way to cross it. He sat down on the bank, and declined to wade it. After a few moments he waddled along the bank, about ten or twelve feet, to a clump of tall slender bushes growing by the edge of the stream. Here he halted, whined, and looked up into them thoughtfully. At length he began to climb one of them that leaned over the water. As he climbed up, the stalk bent with his weight, and in an instant he was swung safely across the little brook. He let go the plant, and came hobbling along to me with a look of triumph on his face that plainly indicated that he was fully conscious of having performed a very clever feat.

One dark, rainy night I felt something pulling at my blanket and mosquito bar. I could not for a moment imagine what it was, but knew that it was something on the outside of my cage. I lay for a few seconds, and felt another strong pull at them. In an instant some cold, damp, rough thing touched my face, and I found it was his hand poked through the meshes and groping about for something. I spoke to him, and he replied with a series of plaintive sounds which assured me that something must be wrong.

I arose, and lighted a candle. His little brown face was pressed up against the wires, and wore a sad, weary look. He could not tell me in words what troubled him, but every sign, look, and gesture bespoke trouble. Taking the candle in one hand, and my revolver in the other, I stepped out of the cage and went to his domicile, where I discovered that a colony of ants had invaded his quarters.

These ants are a great pest when they attack anything, and when they make a raid on a house the only thing to be done is to leave it until they have devoured everything about it that they can eat. When they leave a house there is not a roach, rat, bug, or insect left in it.