NATIVE WOMEN OF THE INTERIOR
[CHAPTER XVI]
OTHELLO AND OTHER GORILLAS
While I was living in my cage in the jungle I secured a young gorilla, to whom I gave the name "Othello." He was about one year old, strong, hardy and robust. I found him to be a fine subject for study, and made the best use of him for that purpose. I have elsewhere described his character, but his illness and death are matters of profound interest.
At noon on the day of his decease he was quite well and in fine humour. He was turning somersaults and playing like a child with my native boy. In his play he evinced a certain interest, and his actions indicated that it gave him pleasure, but his face never once betrayed the fact. It was amusing to see him with the actions of a romping child and the face of a cynic.
He was supplied with plenty of native food, had a good appetite, and ate with a relish. Just after noon I sent the boy on an errand, and he was expected to return about night. Near the middle of the afternoon I observed that Othello was ill; he declined to eat or drink, and lay on his back on the ground, with his arms under his head as a pillow. I tried to induce him to walk with me, to play, or to sit up, but he refused to do so. By four o'clock he was very ill. He rolled from side to side, and groaned as if in pain. He kept one hand upon his stomach, where the pain appeared to be located. He displayed all the symptoms of gastric poisoning, and I have reason to believe now that the boy had given him poison. I should regret to foster this suspicion against an innocent person, but it is based upon certain facts that I have learned since that time.
While I sat in my cage watching Othello, who lay on the ground a short distance away, I discovered a native approaching him from the jungle. The man had an uplifted spear in his hand, as if in the act of hurling it at something. He had not seen me, but it did not for the moment occur to me that he had designs upon my pet. I spoke to him in the native language, when he explained that he had seen the young gorilla, and from that fact suspected there was an old one close at hand, for whose attack he was prepared: that he was not afraid of the little one, but desired to capture it. I informed him that my gorilla was ill. He examined it, and assured me that it would die. The man departed, and Othello continued to grow worse. His sighing and groaning were really touching. I gave him an emetic, which took effect with good results. I also used some vaperoles to resuscitate him, but my skill was not sufficient to meet the demands of his case.
His conduct was so like that of a human being that it deeply impressed me, and being alone with him in the silence of the dreary forest at the time of his demise, gave the scene a touch of sadness that impressed me with a deeper sense of its reality; and Moses watched the dying ape as if he knew what it meant. He showed no signs of regret, but his manner was such as to suggest that he knew it was a trying hour.
Othello died just before sunset, but for a long time prior to this he was unconscious. The only movements made by him were spasmodic actions of the muscles caused by pain. The fixed and vacant stare of his eyes in this last hour was so like those of man in the hour of dissolution, that no one could look upon the scene and fail to realise the solemn fact that this was death. The next day I dissected him, and prepared the skin and skeleton to bring home with me. They are now, with Moses and others, in the Museum of the University of Toronto; and if the taxidermist who mounts the skin of Othello poses him like most of the craft do—in the attitude of dancing a fandango and the corners of his mouth forming obtuse angles—I will have that man executed if I have to bribe the court.