It will be noticed in the engraving of the wrist-bones that one projects behind. This is the pea-shaped, or pisiform bone. It is small and at the side of the wrist in man, but here it acts like it front heel bone. The length of the three middle long bones of the palm, or metacarpals, is nearly equal; and this is an interesting point, as it prevents the third finger from being so much the longest, and gives the hand more or less a foot-like appearance.
THE WANDEROO.[59]
Wanderoo is the English way of spelling and pronouncing the word by which the native inhabitants of Ceylon call all Monkeys; and it is certainly misapplied in this instance, for the animal is not truly one of the Cingalese Monkeys, although it has been brought into the island. It lives in the neighbouring part of the south of the peninsula of Hindostan, especially in the country bordering the Malabar coast. It is a small animal, probably never reaching two feet in length, and the tail may be that of ten or twelve inches; but, from the stories which have been told and invented, one would conceive the Wanderoo to be a giant in wickedness as well as in physical power.
FACE OF THE WANDEROO.
They have slim bodies, which are covered with deep black hair, and there is a longish tail of the same colour, ended by a little tuft. Their head looks very large, because of a mane, or ruff, and beard which surrounds the face, sticking out in a wild kind of way. This mass of long hair is either grey or white in colour, and adds to the sly look of the broad face, soft dull eyes, and rather long black muzzle.
A former dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, the Procurator-General of the Barefooted Carmelites, Father Vincent Maria, writes that there are four kinds of Monkeys on the coast of Malabar, and then proceeds to describe the Wanderoo. He says that this is perfectly black, is clothed with glossy hair, and has a white beard round his head and chin, measuring rather more than a palm in length. To him all the other Monkeys show such deep respect, that in his presence they are submissive, and humble themselves as if they were aware of his pre-eminence. The princes and great lords esteem him highly, for that he is, above every other, gifted with gravity, capacity, and a wise appearance. Easily is he taught to perform a variety of ceremonies and courtesies, and all these in so serious and perfect a style as to make it a great wonder that they should so exactly be enacted by an irrational animal. This excellent character does not appear to have been peculiar to all the Wanderoos; for some have been described as savage and disgusting in the extreme, and as most vicious and malignant in captivity. But it is probable that the gentleness of disposition which has been so noticed by those who have kept them kindly was spoiled by teasing and maltreatment.
The showmen call this Monkey the “Child of the Sun;” and Broderip suggests that it is the ruff, with the head peeping through, which gives a faint likeness to old Sol over a public-house door; and that probably the dark colour of the animal impressed his exhibitors with the great heat he enjoyed in his Indian home.
Certainly they like the sun; and we have often seen a pair at the Zoological Gardens sunning themselves after their breakfast with great delight. They sit on a bar, close to the wires of the cage, and climb four or five feet up it, clinging close to their iron prison, just in the range of a sunbeam. They spread out their black hands, and enjoy the glare, becoming sleepy and disinclined to pay any attention to nuts, cakes, and other temptations. They peer down at you with their expressive eyes, and give an occasional twist to their tail, to pull it close to them, probably after a long experience of the habits of the other Monkeys in the cage, who certainly have not an overwhelming respect for them. It is curious to see them climbing slowly, and without the great exertion and bounds of some of the Guenons, and to notice their marching, head and back downwards, whilst they crawl along the under-side of the roof of their house, looking down every now and then in a cunning sort of manner.