The Ancestors of the Gorilla. The gorilla, though rediscovered in recent years, was apparently known to the ancients. Hanno, a Carthaginian admiral who flourished some five or six hundred years B.C., once sailed from Carthage with a fleet of sixty vessels and a company of 30,000 persons, under instructions to proceed past the Pillars of Hercules (the Straits of Gibraltar), with a view to planting colonies on the western coast of Africa. In the course of their travels they discovered several islands inhabited by wild creatures with hairy bodies. "There were," says the ancient navigator, "many more females than males, all equally covered with hair on all parts of the body. The interpreters called them gorillas. On pursuing them, we could not succeed in taking a single male, they all escaped with astonishing swiftness, and threw stones at us; but we took three females, who defended themselves with so much violence, that we were obliged to kill them; but we brought their skins, stuffed with straw, to Carthage." Professor Owen remarks upon this that "though such creatures would suggest to Hanno and his crew no other idea of their nature than that of a kind of human being, yet the climbing faculty, the hairy body, and the skinning of the dead specimens strongly suggest that they were great apes. The fact that apes somewhat resembling the negroes, of human size and with hairy bodies, still exist on the west coast of Africa renders it highly probable that such were the creatures which Hanno saw, captured, and called 'gorullai'."
A Gorilla Hunt. Paul du Chaillu, in his "Stories of the Gorilla Country," gives a graphic description of his first sight of these "wild men of the woods." He was inspecting the ruins of a native village with a party of Africans, when they discovered footprints which the natives immediately recognised as those of the gorilla. "It was," says he, "the first time I had seen the footprints of these wild men of the woods, and I cannot tell you how I felt. Here was I now, it seemed, on the point of meeting, face to face, that monster, of whose ferocity, strength and cunning, the natives had told me so much, and which no man before had hunted. By the tracks it was easy to know that there must have been several gorillas in company. We prepared at once to follow them. My men were remarkably silent, for they were going on an expedition of more than usual risk; for the male gorilla is literally the king of the forest—the king of the equatorial regions. He and the crested lion of Mount Atlas are the two fiercest and strongest beasts of that continent. The lion of South Africa cannot be compared with either for strength or courage. As we left the camp, the men and women left behind crowded together, with fear written on their faces. Miengai, Ngolai, and Makinda set out for the hunt in one party; myself and Yeava formed another. We determined to keep near each other, so that in case of trouble we might be at hand to help one another. For the rest silence and a sure aim were the only cautions to be given. I confess that I was never more excited in my life. For years I had heard of the terrible roar of the gorilla, of its vast strength, of its fierce courage when only wounded. I knew that we were about to pit ourselves against an animal which even the enormous leopards of the mountains fear, which the elephants let alone and which perhaps has driven away the lion out of his territory; for the king of beasts, so numerous elsewhere in Africa, is not met with in the land of the gorilla. We descended a hill, crossed a stream on a fallen log, crept under the trees, and presently approached some huge boulders of granite. In the stream we had crossed we could see plainly that the animals had just crossed it, for the water was still disturbed. Along side of the granite blocks lay an immense dead tree, and about this the gorillas were likely to be. Our approach was very cautious. With guns cocked and ready we advanced through the dense wood, which cast a gloom even at mid-day over the whole scene. I looked at my men and saw that they were even more excited than myself. Slowly we pressed on through the dense bush, dreading almost to breathe for fear of alarming the beasts. Makinda was to go to the right of the rock, while I took the left. Unfortunately he and his party circled it at too great a distance. The watchful animals saw him. Suddenly I was startled by a strange, discordant, half human cry, and beheld four young and half-grown gorillas running towards the deep forest. I was not ready. We fired but hit nothing. Then we rushed on in pursuit; but they knew the woods better than we. Once I caught a glimpse of one of the animals again; but an intervening tree spoiled my mark, and I did not fire. We pursued them till we were exhausted, but in vain. I protest I felt almost like a murderer when I saw the gorilla this first time. As they ran on their hind legs with their heads down, their bodies inclined forward, their whole appearance was that of hairy men running for their lives. Add to this their cry, so awful yet with something human in its discordance, and you will cease to wonder that the natives have the wildest superstitions about these 'wild men of the woods.'"
Du Chaillu's First Gorilla. In his "Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa" du Chaillu gives an equally thrilling account of the capture of his first gorilla. He says: "We started early, and pushed through the most dense and impenetrable part of the forest; in hopes to find the very home of the beast I so much wished to shoot. Hour after hour we travelled and yet no signs of gorillas. Only the everlasting, little, chattering monkeys—and not many of these—and occasionally birds. Suddenly Miengai uttered a little cluck with his tongue which is the native way of showing that something is stirring and that a sharp look-out is necessary. And presently I noticed, ahead of us seemingly, a noise as of some one breaking down branches or twigs of trees. This was a gorilla—I knew at once by the eager satisfied looks of the men. We walked with the greatest care making no noise at all. Suddenly, as we were yet creeping along, in a silence which made a heavy breath seem loud and distinct, the woods were at once filled with the tremendous barking roar of the gorilla. Then the underbrush swayed rapidly just ahead, and presently before us stood an immense male gorilla. He had gone through the jungle on all fours; but when he saw our party he erected himself and looked us boldly in the face. He stood about a dozen yards from us, and was a sight I think I shall never forget. Nearly six feet high (he proved four inches shorter), with immense body, huge chest, and great muscular arms, with fiercely glaring, large, deep gray eyes, and a hellish expression of face, which seemed to me like some nightmare vision: thus stood before us this king of the African forest. He was not afraid of us. He stood there and beat his breast with his huge fists till it resounded like an immense bass-drum, which is the gorillas' mode of offering defiance; meantime giving vent to roar after roar. The roar of the gorilla is the most singular and awful noise heard in these African woods. It begins with a sharp bark, like an angry dog, then glides into a deep bass roll, which literally and closely resembles the roll of distant thunder along the sky. So deep is it that it seems to proceed less from the mouth and throat than from the deep chest and vast paunch. His eyes began to flash fiercer fire as we stood motionless on the defensive, and the crest of short hair which stands on his forehead began to twitch rapidly up and down, while his powerful fangs were shown as he again sent forth his thunderous roar. He advanced a few steps—then stopped to utter that hideous roar again—advanced again, and finally stopped when at a distance of about six yards from us. And here, just as he began another of his roars, beating his breast with rage, we fired, and killed him. With a groan which had something terribly human in it, and yet was full of brutishness, he fell forward on his face. The body shook convulsively for a few minutes, the limbs moved about in a struggling way, and then all was quiet: death had done its work, and I had leisure to examine the huge body. It proved to be five feet eight inches high, and the muscular development of the arms and breast showed what immense strength it had possessed." A smaller gorilla, shot by M. du Chaillu on another occasion, measured five feet six inches in height, fifty inches round the chest, and his arms had a spread of seven feet two inches.
A Young Gorilla. A young gorilla which some natives succeeded in capturing for M. du Chaillu, and which he named "Fighting Joe," forms the subject of one of his most interesting chapters. The young cub was caught by the adroit use of a cloth which one of the natives managed to throw over his head, but not until he had severely bitten one of his captors in the hand and taken a mouthful out of the leg of another. He was about three years old, three feet six inches in height and of great strength. A cage was made for him, from which he twice escaped, on each occasion being recaptured by the use of fishing nets. On his first escape he concealed himself under the bed in M. du Chaillu's house. "Running in," says the writer, "to get one of my guns, I was startled by an angry growl. It was master Joe; there was no mistake about it; I knew his growl too well. I cleared out faster than I came in. I instantly shut the windows and called in my people to guard the door. When Joe saw the crowd of black faces he became furious, and with his eyes glaring, and every sign of rage in his face and body, he got out from beneath the bed. He was about to make a rush at all of us. He was not afraid. A stampede of my men took place, I shut the door quickly (from outside) and left Joe master of the premises." While the men outside were devising means for his recapture, the young gorilla carefully inspected the furniture and M. du Chaillu became apprehensive for the safety of his clock, the ticking of which was likely to attract unwelcome attention. However, by means of a net dexterously thrown over him, he was secured once more and carried back to his cage, which in the meantime had been repaired, the full strength of four men being required for the purpose. On his second escape he made for the woods and took refuge in a large clump of trees. "This we surrounded," says M. du Chaillu. "He did not ascend a tree, but stood defiantly at the border of the wood. About one hundred and fifty of us surrounded him. As we moved up he began to yell, and made a dash upon a poor fellow who was in advance. The fellow ran and tumbled down in affright. By his fall he escaped the tender mercies of Joe's teeth; but he also detained the little rascal long enough for the nets to be thrown over him." But Joe was a child of nature and could not live with the chain of civilisation around his neck, and he died somewhat suddenly some ten days afterwards and finally found his way to the British museum.
Gorilla Superstitions. According to du Chaillu, the natives entertain many superstitions about the gorilla, among the commonest of which is the belief that some gorillas are inhabited by human spirits. In his "Stories of the Gorilla Country" he gives an interesting illustration of this. "In the evening," he says, "the men told stories about gorillas. 'I remember,' said one, 'my father told me he once went out to the forest, when just in his path he met a great gorilla. My father had his spear in his hand. When the gorilla saw the spear he began to roar; then my father was terrified and dropped the spear. When the gorilla saw that my father had dropped the spear he was pleased. He looked at him, and then left him and went into the thick forest. Then my father was glad and went on his way.' Here all shouted: 'Yes! so we must do when we meet the gorilla. Drop the spear; that appeases him.' Next Gambo spoke. 'Several dry seasons ago, a man suddenly disappeared from my village after an angry quarrel. Some time after an Ashira of that village was out in the forest. He met a very large gorilla. That gorilla was the man who had disappeared; he had turned into a gorilla. He jumped upon the poor Ashira and bit a piece out of his arm; then he let him go. Then the man came back with the bleeding arm. He told me this, I hope we shall not meet such gorillas.' Chorus: 'No; we shall not meet such wicked gorillas.' "I myself," says du Chaillu, "afterwards met that man in the Ashira country. I saw his maimed arm and he repeated the same story." Then one of the men spoke up: 'If we kill a gorilla to-morrow, I should like to have a part of the brain for a fetich. Nothing makes a man so brave as to have a fetich of gorilla's brain. That gives a man a strong heart.' Chorus (of those who remained awake) 'Yes; that gives a man a strong heart.'" A fetich of the brain of the gorilla is said also to help its owner in love as well as war.
The Chimpanzee. The chimpanzee is a near neighbour of the gorilla in Equatorial Africa though he appears to have a more extended range. He is found in Sierra Leone and in the country lying to the north of the river Congo, and according to native accounts is gregarious in his habits, travelling in formidable companies, who carry sticks and make effective use of them. They are said to reach maturity at nine or ten years of age and to attain a height of from four to five feet. Like the gorillas they have immensely powerful limbs, and have been known without apparent effort to break off branches of trees which a man would have been powerless to bend.
The Docility and Sagacity of the Chimpanzee. The chimpanzee differs from the gorilla in his amenability to civilisation. The gorilla, however young, seems incapable of being tamed; while the chimpanzee in its infancy and youth at least has often been domesticated, though like most other apes, as it approaches maturity, it needs to be kept under strong control. Captain Brown in his "Habits and Characteristics of Animals and Birds" gives the following illustration of the docility and sagacity of the chimpanzee. He says: "M. de Grandpré saw, on board of a vessel, a female chimpanzee, which exhibited wonderful proofs of intelligence. She had learnt to heat the oven; she took great care not to let any of the coals fall out, which might have done mischief in the ship; and she was very accurate in observing when the oven was heated to the proper degree, of which she immediately apprized the baker, who, relying with perfect confidence upon her information, carried his dough to the oven as soon as the chimpanzee came to fetch him. This animal performed all the business of a sailor, spliced ropes, handled the sails, and assisted at unfurling them; and she was, in fact considered by the sailors as one of themselves. The vessel was bound for America; but the poor animal did not live to see that country, having fallen a victim to the brutality of the first mate, who inflicted very cruel chastisement upon her, which she had not deserved. She endured it with the greatest patience, only holding out her hands in a suppliant attitude, in order to break the force of the blows she received. But from that moment she steadily refused to take any food, and died on the fifth day from grief and hunger. She was lamented by every person on board, not insensible to the feelings of humanity, who knew the circumstances of her fate."
The Orang-utan. The orang-utan is one of the largest of the ape species and until the discovery of the gorilla was supposed to be the largest. It is said sometimes to attain to the height of six feet, and some travellers' tales credit it with even greater height. The orang is possessed of great strength but is of a docile disposition when brought under civilisation, and even in a wild state is often quiet and peaceable except when attacked. It inhabits country that is low, level, and swampy, and that is at the same time covered with lofty virgin forests. It belongs to the genus Simia of which it is the single species.
The Habits of the Orang-utan. The following account of the orang is given by Mr. Brooke of Sarawak. "On the habits of the orangs, as far as I have been able to observe them, I may remark that they are as dull and as slothful as can well be conceived, and on no occasion, when pursuing them, did they move so fast as to preclude my keeping pace with them easily through a moderately clear forest; and even when obstructions below (such as wading up to the neck) allowed them to get away some distance, they were sure to stop and allow us to come up. I never observed the slightest attempt at defence; and the wood, which sometimes rattled about our ears, was broken by their weight, and not thrown, as some persons represent. If pushed to extremity, however, the pappan could not be otherwise than formidable; and one unfortunate man, who with a party was trying to catch one alive, lost two of his fingers, besides being severely bitten on the face, whilst the animal finally beat off his pursuers and escaped. When hunters wish to catch an adult, they cut down a circle of trees round the one on which he is seated, and then fell that also, and close before he can recover himself, and endeavour to bind him. The rude hut which they are stated to build in the trees would be more properly called a seat, or nest, for it has no roof or cover of any sort. The facility with which they form this seat is curious; and I had an opportunity of seeing a wounded female weave the branches together, and seat herself in a minute. She afterwards received our fire without moving, and expired in her lofty abode, whence it cost us much trouble to dislodge her. The adult male I killed was seated lazily on a tree; and when approached only took the trouble to interpose the trunk between us, peeping at me and dodging as I dodged. I hit him on the wrist, and he was afterwards despatched."
The Walk of the Orang-utan. In locomotion the orang disdains the earth and perambulates the vernal terraces of the forest trees. "It is a singular sight," says Mr. Wallace, "to watch a mias (orang-utan) making his way leisurely through a forest. He walks deliberately along some of the larger branches in the semi-erect attitude which the great length of his arms and the shortness of his legs cause him naturally to assume, and seems always to choose those branches which intermingle with an adjoining tree, on approaching which he stretches out his long arms, and seizing the opposing boughs, grasps them together with both hands, seems to try their strength, and then deliberately swings himself across to the next branch on which he walks along as before. He never jumps or springs, or even appears to hurry himself, and yet manages to get along almost as quickly as a person can run through the forest beneath."