I have heard a story of the origin of man and the gorilla, which I shall relate as a queer bit of native lore. It is confined to the Galoi tribe, and appears to be of recent origin, and, to my mind, has a strong Caucasian flavor; besides, no vestige of such a tale is found in any other tribe that I have seen.
They say that Einyambie (God) had four sons who lived with him in some aërial abode, and three of them came to the earth, leaving the oldest one with Einyambie. On their arrival here they held a big palaver as to what mode of life they should adopt. The oldest of the three wanted to build a town and plant some fruit, but the other two preferred to live in the forest and subsist upon the wild products of nature. Accordingly they separated, and the oldest went and built him a town, and planted some bananas and manioc, while the other two roamed about through the primeval bush, and ate such wild fruits as they could find, but they had no fire. After some talk about the matter, it was agreed that the older of the two should go to the brother in the town, and ask him for fire, while the younger should remain in the bush and gather up sticks of dry wood to burn. The one who had gone to town soon returned with fire, and the two got on quite well for a time, but when the wet season came on they found it more difficult to procure food, and at last it was decided that the elder should again visit the town to ask their brother to supply them, and the younger should remain to keep up the fire; but the youth went to sleep and let it die out, so, when the other returned with food, they had no fire to cook it. This vexed the elder very much and a quarrel ensued, in consequence of which they separated. The youngest brother was left alone in the deep bush, and, thus cut off from all fellowship with his brethren, he wandered about until he became wild and fierce, and for want of clothing was exposed to the weather, until a coat of hair grew all over him, and in this wise came the gorilla into the world.
The next older brother, on leaving the remote forest, took up his abode near the town, and by this means came in contact at times with his brother in the town, from whom he learned a few useful things, and thus became more wise and civil than the one left in the bush; and from this one came the “bushman;” while the progeny of the one who built the town are the people of the world. Such is the origin on earth of these three kindred races, as told by the sages of Galoi.
You will observe that this novel has no woman in it, and her origin remains a question in Galoi.
As a rule, the natives do not eat the gorilla, and very seldom kill one, but this I attribute more to fear than to respect. That great tribe of cannibals known as Pangwe, however, slay and eat him without compunction. This tribe was scarcely known on the coast a few years ago, but they are shifting like the desert sands from the interior, northeast of the Gaboon, to the coast southwest, until to-day they are found throughout the valley of the Ogowe, and as far south as Selle Kama, on the coast. They are the Jews of West Africa, and the life and soul of the trade of this part. They go into the bush for ivory, ebony, piassava, and dye-woods, and carry them for days to find sale for them. They drink much less rum than other natives, and deprecate slavery in all forms, except as hostage; but they are cruel, savage, 371 and treacherous, and hold human life at small value.
Up to this time I have not told you of the chimpanzee, which I have long believed to be the social and mental superior of the gorilla. My opinion was based upon a study of their skulls, and I was aware that many great men of science held opposite views; but all the evidence that I can find here, where they are best known, tends to confirm my belief. Every instinct of the gorilla seems to be averse to all human society; he delights in a life of seclusion in the most remote and desolate parts of the jungle, and I have never heard of but one gorilla that became even tolerant to man, much less attached to him, and this one was a mere infant. I have seen a few in captivity, but all of them are vicious, and devoid of any sense of gratitude whatever. On the other hand, the chimpanzee delights in the society of man, and displays many good traits. It is not at all rare to find tame ones on this coast, going about the premises at large, and quite as much at home as any resident. With this short preface I desire to introduce my own young friend, who lives with me in my forest home. He is a fine specimen of the chimpanzee race, and I call him Moses, because he was found in a papyrus swamp of the Ogowe. He is devoted to me, and cries after me like a spoiled baby, and follows me like a pet dog. I do not confine him, so he goes about in the bush near the cage, and selects some of the tender buds of young plants and vines, and returns to me to be petted and caressed. He is a great pleasure to me as well as a great plague, for he wants to hug me all the time, and never wants me to put him down. About ten o’clock every day he comes for a nap, and when I wrap him up and lay him on a box by my side, he sleeps quietly till noon. After a good sleep he climbs on my lap and embraces me with devotion, until I really tire of him. Much of the time I write with him on my lap, and when I put him outside the cage he climbs up near me, and begs and pulls my sleeve until I relent, and let him come inside again. When I leave my cage I usually take him with me, and when he sees me take my rifle he begins to fret, until I let him mount my back, which he does with great skill, and hangs on to me like the ivy to a church wall. A few days since, as we were returning from a short tour, I saw a young chimpanzee crossing the path about thirty yards from us, and I tried to induce Moses to call his little cousin; but he declined to do so, and I accused him of being proud because he was mounted and the other was afoot, and hence he would not speak to him.
I am trying to teach Moses to speak English, but up to this time he has not succeeded. He tries to move his lips as I do, but makes no sound. However, he has only been in school a very short term, and I think he will learn by and by. I am also trying him on some simple problems with blocks, and sometimes I think he is doing quite well. I am giving him some lessons in cleanliness, and he listens with profound silence to my precepts, but when it comes to taking a bath, Moses is a rank heretic. He will allow his hands to be washed, but when it comes to wetting his face, no logic will convince him that he needs it. He has a great horror for large bugs, and when one comes near him he will talk like a phonograph, and brush at it with his hands until he gets rid of it. When he sees or hears anything strange, he always tells me in a low tone, unless it comes too near, and then he announces it with a yell. At times I refuse to pay any attention to him, and he will fall down, scream, and sulk like a very naughty child. He is extremely jealous, and does not want any one to come near me. I have made him a neat little house, with hammock and mosquito-bar, and at night I tuck him in, when he sleeps quietly until late in the morning. Then he crawls out, rubbing his eyes, and wants his breakfast. He wants to try everything he sees me eat.
I must now tell you of the most novel and singular thing known of the chimpanzee, the native name of which is “n’tyigo” (n’cheego). All native tribes in this part of Africa use some species of drum to make the music for 372 their frequent dances. The drum used by the N’Ka̤mi is called n’gäma, and the dance is called ka̤njo. The chimpanzees have a similar fête, and set to similar music. They meet in great numbers at a certain place in the bush, and beat their strange tum-tum, which the natives call the n’gäma n’tyigo. The performer makes a peculiar humming vocal sound while he beats on his mysterious drum with great zeal, during which time all the others go through a series of frantic motions which resemble a dance, and which the natives call the ka̤njo n’tyigo. When the music ceases, the dance ends for the time, and all the group join in a loud, wild shout. After a brief pause the dance is resumed, and these festivities are often continued for two or three hours. At intervals the musician is relieved by another taking his place, and two at a time have been known to beat and hum.
I have heard of this in many parts of Africa with some slight changes of detail, but have as often been assured that it had defied the skill of all woodsmen to ascertain the real character of the drum used by them in this unique n’ka̤njo. Some assert that they beat upon a dead tree, others that they use a concave piece of wood or bark, while some contend that they strike the breast with their hands; but, during my sojourn here, I have been shown what I believe is the genuine n’gäma n’tyigo. It is a peculiar spot of sonorous earth, of irregular shape but usually about two feet in diameter, and formed of clay superimposed upon a soil resembling peat. It appears to be artificial, but the natives cannot tell whether it is natural or made by the n’tyigo, but it is fairly certain that it is used by the chimpanzee as described, and it is not a bad imitation of the native n’gäma. I have examined one of these with much care, and I am inclined to believe that it is artificial, as it is isolated from all similar clay, and appears to have been kneaded.
I have, as yet, seen but few chimpanzees since I have taken up my abode at Fort Gorilla, but I hope to enjoy some private interviews with them before I decamp.