The kulu in question was more of a coquette than she was of a shrew. She plainly showed that she was fond of flattery. Not perhaps in the same sense that a human being is, but she was certainly conscious of approbation and fond of applause. When she accomplished anything difficult, she seemed aware of it; and when she succeeded in doing a thing which she was not allowed to do, she never failed to express herself in the manner described above. She always appeared to be perfectly conscious of being observed by others, but she was defiant and composed. There was nothing known in the catalogue of mischief that she was not ready to tackle at any moment and take her chances on the result. From the stoke-hole to the funnel, from the jack-staff to the rudder, she explored that boat.
To keep her out of mischief, she was tied on the saloon deck with a long line, but no one aboard the vessel was able to tie a knot in the line which she could not untie with dexterity and ease. Her master, who was a sailor and an expert in the art of tying knots, exhausted his efforts in trying to make one that would defy her skill.
On one occasion I was aboard the little steamer when the culprit was brought up from the main deck where she had been in some mischief, and tied to one of the rails along the side of the boat. The question of tying her was discussed, and at length a new plan was devised. In the act of untying a knot she always began with the part of the knot that was nearest to her. It was now agreed to tie the line around one of the rails on the side of the deck, about half-way between the two stanchions that supported it, then to carry the loose ends of the line to the stanchion and make it fast in the angle of it and the rail. This was done. As soon as she was left alone she began to examine the knots; but she made no attempt at first to untie them except to feel them as if to see how firmly they were made. She then climbed up on the iron rail around which the middle of the line was tied, and slackened the knot. She pulled first at one strand and then at the other, but one end was tied to the stanchion and the other to her neck, and she could find no loose end to draw through. First one way and then the other she drew this noose. She saw that in some way it was connected with the stanchion. She drew the noose along the rail until it was near the post; she climbed down upon the deck, then around the post and back again; she climbed up over the rails and down on the outside, and again carefully examined the knot; she climbed back, then through between the rails and back, then under the rails and back, but she could find no way to get this first knot out of the line. For a moment she sat down on the deck, and viewed the situation with evident concern. She slowly rose to her feet and again examined it; she moved the noose back to its place in the middle of the rail, climbed up by it, and again drew it out as far as the strands would allow. Again she closed it; she took one strand in her hand and traced it from the loop to the stanchion, then she took the other end in the same manner and traced it from the loop to her neck. She looked at the loop and then slowly drew it out as far as it would come. She sat for a while holding it in one hand, and with the other moved each strand of the knot. She was in a deep study, and did not even deign a glance at those who were watching her. At length she took the loop in both hands, deliberately put it over her head and crawled through it. The line thus released dropped to the deck; she quickly descended, took hold of it near her neck, and found that it was untied; she gathered it up as she advanced towards the other end that was tied to the post, and at once began to loosen the knots about it. In a minute more the last knot was released, when she gathered the whole line into a bundle, looked at those around her with that look of contempt which we have described, and departed at once in search of other mischief. The air of triumph and contempt was enough to convince any one of her opinion of what she had done.
If this feat was the result of instinct, the lexicons must find another definition for that word. There were six white men who witnessed the act, and the verdict of all was that she had solved a problem which few children of her own age could have done. Every movement was controlled by reason. The tracing out of cause and effect was too evident for any one to doubt.
NATIVE VILLAGE AT GLASS GABOON
Almost any animal can be taught to perform certain feats, but that does not show the innate capacity. The only true measure of the faculty of reason is to reduce the actor to his own resources, and see how he will render himself under some new condition, otherwise the act will be, at least in part, mechanical or imitative. In all my efforts to study the mental calibre of animals I have confined them strictly to their own judgment, and left them to work out the problem alone. By this means only can we estimate to what extent they apply the faculty of reason. No one doubts that all animals have minds, which are receptive in some degree. But it has often been said that they are devoid of reason, and controlled alone by some vague attribute called instinct. Such is not the case. It is the same faculty of the mind that men employ to solve the problems that arise in every sphere of life. It is the one which sages and philosophers have used in every phase of science. It differs in degree, but not in kind.
This kulu-kamba knew the use of a corkscrew. This she had acquired from seeing it applied by men. While she could not use it herself with success, she often tried and never applied it to the wrong purpose.
She would take the deck broom and scrub the deck, unless there was water on it, in which event she always left the job. She did not seem to know the purpose of sweeping the deck, and never swept the dirt before the broom. This was doubtless imitative. She only grasped the idea that a broom was used to scrub the deck, but she failed to observe the effect produced. However, it cannot be said with certainty to what extent she was aware of the effect, but it is inferred from the fact that she did not try to remove the dirt.
She knew what coal was intended for, and often climbed into the bunker and threw it down by the furnace door. The furnace door and steam gauge were two things that escaped her busy fingers. I do not know how she learned the danger of them, but she never touched them. She had to be watched to keep her from seizing the machinery. For this she seemed to have a strong desire, but did not know the danger she incurred.