It is very probable that the language of the Poonans and the Jackoons is equally limited. And what are we to conclude from all the foregoing? Briefly, I should say that the architectural skill of the orioles, the caciques and the weaver birds is greater than that of the South Patagonia native, the Jackoon and the Poonan. I should say that those bird homes yield to their makers more comfort and protection, and a better birth-rate, than are yielded by the homes of those ignorant, unambitious and retrogressive tribes of men now living and thinking, and supposed to be possessed of reasoning powers. If the whole truth could be known, I believe it would be found that the stock of ideas possessed and used by the groups of highly-endowed birds would fully equal the ideas of such tribes of simple-minded men as those mentioned. If caught young, those savages could be trained by civilized men, and taught to perform many tricks, but so can chimpanzees and elephants.

Curiously enough, it is a common thing for even the higher types of civilized men to make in home-building just as serious mistakes as are made by wild animals and savages. For example, among the men of our time it is a common mistake to build in the wrong place, to build entirely too large or too ugly, and to build a Colossal Burden instead of a real Home. From many a palace there stands forth the perpetual question: "Why did he do it?"

Any reader who at any time inclines toward an opinion that the author is unduly severe on the mentality of the human race, even as it exists today in the United States, is urged to read in the Scientific Monthly for January, 1922, an article by Professor L. M. Tennan entitled "Adventures in Stupidity.—A Partial Analysis of the Intellectual Inferiority of a College Student." He should particularly note the percentages on page 34 in the second paragraph under the subtitle "The Psychology of Stupidity."

VIII

THE MENTAL STATUS OF THE ORANG-UTAN

My first ownership of a live orang-utan began in 1878, in the middle of the Simujan River, Borneo, where for four Spanish dollars I became the proud possessor of a three-year old male. No sooner was the struggling animal deposited in the bottom of my own boat than it savagely seized the calf of my devoted leg and endeavored to bite therefrom a generous cross section. My leggings and my leech stockings saved my life. That implacable little beast never gave up; and two days later it died,—apparently to spite me.

My next orang was a complete reverse of No. 1. He liked not the Dyaks who brought him to me, but in the first moment of our acquaintance he adopted me as his foster-father, and loved me like a son. Throughout four months of jungle vicissitudes he stuck to me. He was a high-class orang,—and be it known that many orangs are thin-headed scrubs, who never amount to anything. His skull was wide, his face was broad, and he had a dome of thought like a statesman. He had a fine mind, and I am sure I could have taught him everything that any ape could learn.

During the four months that he lived with me I taught him, almost without effort, many things that were necessary in our daily life. Even the Dyaks recognized the fact that the "Old Man" was an orang (or "mias") of superior mind, and some of them traveled far to see him. Unfortunately the exigencies of travel and work compelled me to present him to an admiring friend in India. Mr. Andrew Carnegie and his then partner, Mr. J. W. Vandevorst, convoyed my Old Man and another small orang from Singapore to Colombo, Ceylon, whence they were shipped on to Madras, received there by my old friend A. G. R. Theobald,—and presented at the court of the Duke of Buckingham.

Up to a comparatively recent date, the studies of the psychologists that have been devoted to the minds of animals below man, have been chiefly concerned with low and common types. Comparatively few investigators have found it possible to make extensive and prolonged observations of the most intelligent wild animals of the world, even in zoological gardens, and their observations on wild animals in a state of nature seem to have been even more circumscribed. I know only three who have studied any of the great apes.

In attempting to fathom the mental capacity and the mental processes of some of the highest mammals, there is the same superior degree of interest attaching to the study of wild species that the ethnologist finds in the study of savage races of men that have been unspoiled by civilization. Obviously, it is more interesting to fathom the mind of a creature in an absolute state of nature than of one whose ancestors have been bred and reared in the trammels of domestication and for many successive generations have bowed to the will of man. The natural fury of the Atlantic walrus, when attacked, is much more interesting as a psychologic study than is the inbred rage of the bull-dog; and the remarkable defensive tactics of the musk-ox far surpass in interest the vagaries of range cattle.