The Monkey Tribe.
f course my readers are in some measure familiar with the tricks of
this large and notorious family of animals. But one is not easily
wearied with their antics. They afford us, the most sober and sedate of
us, an immense amount of material for amusement. I confess I have
stopped in the street, many a time, to see a sage monkey go through his
grotesque manœuvres, under the direction of a tutor who ground out
music from a wheezing hand-organ, and have been willing to undergo the
penance of hearing the music of the master, for the sake of witnessing
the genius of the pupil. I can conceive of nothing more excessively
ludicrous than many of these exhibitions. But I must not detain the
reader from the stories any longer.
A foreign gentleman of distinction having to attend the court of Louis
XVI. of France, took with him his favorite monkey. Soon after his
arrival, he was invited to attend a great ball at Versailles; and
anxious to perform his part with credit in that fashionable country, he
engaged one of the first dancing-masters in the city to teach him the
latest mode. Every day he employed several hours in practicing his
lessons with the tutor, so as to be au fait, as the French people have
it—quite at home in the ball-room. Pug made his observations very
attentively, watching all his motions. He also scrutinized the musician
very closely, as he was engaged in instructing the gentleman, and
playing on his violin. At the close of his lesson, the foreigner was in
the habit of going to his mirror, and of practicing before it, by
himself, for a considerable time, till he was in a measure satisfied
with his performances, and pretty sure, we may suppose, that he would
make a fine figure at court when the ball should come off. One day,
after the gentleman had been exercising in this manner, and had just
left the room, the monkey, who had been looking on with interest, as
usual, left his post of observation, took up the violin, which had been
left there by the musician, and commenced playing and imitating the
dancing of his master, before the mirror. There is no knowing how much
of a dancer he would have become, if he had been allowed to practice as
much as he desired. As it was, however, his training for the ball was
very suddenly terminated by the entrance of a servant into the room,
while the student was in the midst of his performances.
A monkey tied to a stake was robbed by the crows, in the West Indies, of
his food, and he conceived the following plan of punishing the thieves.
He feigned death, and lay perfectly motionless on the ground near to his
stake. The birds approached by degrees, and got near enough to steal his
food, which he allowed them to do. This he repeated several times, till
they became so bold as to come within the reach of his claws. He
calculated his distance, and laid hold of one of them. Death was not his
plan of punishment. He was more refined in his cruelty. He plucked every
feather out of the bird, and then let him go and show himself to his
companions. He made a man of him according to the ancient definition of
a "biped without feathers."
An organ-grinder, with his monkey, being taken before the mayor of New
Orleans, for exhibiting themselves without a license, the monkey was so
polite to the mayor, took off his cap and made so many bows to his
honor, that the two were permitted to depart in peace. It is said that
no lawyer would have managed the case better than the monkey did.
A gentleman living in Bath, England, had a monkey who used to perform a
great many very amusing tricks, in imitation of his master. The
gentleman was a great politician, and was in the habit of reading his
newspaper very punctually every morning, at the breakfast-table. One
day, business having compelled him to leave the table earlier than
usual, Pug was found, seated in his chair, with his master's spectacles
on, and the Courier newspaper upside down, reading as gravely, and with
as much apparent interest, as the politician. Once in a while he looked
off his paper, and chattered, and made significant gestures, as his
master was in the habit of doing, when he came across any thing very
especially interesting.
A farmer in the West Indies had planted a field with Indian corn.
Numerous monkeys inhabited a forest near by, who had attentively
observed the planting process, and the method by which it was
cultivated. They seemed to take not a little interest in the whole
matter. The farmer had the pleasure of seeing his crop of corn nearly
ready for harvesting. But the monkeys took care that he should not have
the trouble of harvesting it. One night, they issued from the forest in
vast numbers, forming themselves into long lines between it and the
corn-field. All was conducted in silence. Each was intent on the
business in hand. Those in front of the lines plucked off the ears of
corn with great dexterity, and passed them to his nearest companion, who
handed them forward from one to another, till they reached the woods. In
this manner the work proceeded till daylight, when the slaves found the
thieves finishing the operation. It had been a very profitable night's
labor for the mischievous fellows. The corn was pretty nearly all
disposed of. Before the owner of it could get his workmen together, with
suitable weapons of defence, the whole troop had disappeared in the
forest. What a chattering there must have been among them, when they all
met at their rendezvous! How knowing they must have looked, as they said
one to another, "Wasn't that thing managed pretty nicely?"
In Sierra Leone is a species of orang-outang so strong and so
industrious, that, when properly trained and fed, they work like
servants. They generally walk upright on their two hind feet. Sometimes
they are employed to pound substances in a mortar, and they are
frequently taught to go to rivers, and to bring water in small pitchers.
They usually carry the water on their heads. When they come to the door
of the house, if the pitchers are not soon taken off, they let them
fall; and when they perceive that they are broken, the poor fellows
sometimes weep like a child, in anticipation of the flogging they are to
receive.
Buffon saw an orang-outang that performed a multitude of funny tricks.
He would present his hand to lead his visitors about the room, and
promenade as gravely as if he was one of the most important personages
in the company. He would even sit down at table, unfold his napkin, wipe
his lips like any other gentleman, use a spoon or fork in carrying food
to his mouth, pour his liquor into a glass—for it seems he had not
become a convert to the principles of total abstinence—and touch his
glass to that of the person who drank with him. When invited to take
tea, he brought a cup and saucer, placed them on the table, put in
sugar, poured out the tea, and after allowing it to cool, drank it with
the utmost propriety.
THE ORANG-OUTANG.
In Africa the orang-outang is a very formidable animal, and does not
hesitate to attack men, when alone and without arms, in which cases
he always proves himself the victor. He sleeps under trees, and builds
himself a hut, which serves to protect him against the sun and the rains
of the tropical climates. When the negroes make a fire in the woods,
this animal comes near and warms himself by the blaze. However, he has
not skill enough to keep the flame alive by feeding it with fuel. They
even attack the elephant, which they beat with their clubs, and oblige
to leave that part of the forest which they claim as their own. When one
of these animals dies, the rest cover the body with a quantity of leaves
and branches. They sometimes show mercy to the human species. A negro
boy, it is said, that was taken by one of them and carried into the
woods, continued there a whole year, without receiving any injury. It is
said, indeed, that they often attempt to surprise the negroes as they go
into the woods, and sometimes keep them against their will, for the
pleasure of their company, feeding them very plentifully all the time.
In respect to this latter statement, however, I confess myself a little
skeptical. There have been a great many well-told stories about men of
the woods, which have proved to be altogether fabulous, when the true
state of the case has become known.
There were two monkeys, one of which was peculiarly mischievous, and
the other pretty civil and good-natured, on board of the same ship. One
day, when the sea ran very high, the former prevailed on the other to go
aloft with him, when he drew her attention to an object at a distance,
and when she turned to look at it, he hit her a blow with his paw, and
threw her into the sea, where she was drowned. This act seemed to afford
the rascal a great deal of gratification. He came down to the deck of
the vessel, chattering at the top of his voice, he was so happy.
Le Vaillant, a French traveler in Africa, says of a tame baboon, which
followed him in his rambles, "One day, a gentleman, wishing to put the
fidelity of the animal to the test, pretended to strike me. At this the
monkey flew into a violent rage, and from that time, he could never
endure the sight of the man. If he only saw him at a distance, he began
to cry and to make all sorts of grimaces, which evidently showed that he
wished to revenge the insult that had been done to me. He ground his
teeth, and endeavored, with all his might, to fly at his face."
Here is a story of a monkey who made a fool of himself, and of a British
soldier at the same time. During the period of the siege of Gibraltar,
when England and Spain were at war in 1779, the English fleet being at
the time absent, an attack from the enemy was daily expected. One dark
night, a sentinel, whose post was near a tower facing the Spanish lines,
was standing, at the end of his walk, whistling, looking toward the
enemy, his head filled with fire, and sword, and glory. By the side of
his box stood a deep, narrow-necked earthen jar, in which was the
remainder of his supper, consisting of boiled peas. A large monkey—of
which there were plenty at Gibraltar—encouraged by the man's absence,
and allured by the smell of the peas, ventured to the jar; and in
endeavoring to get at its contents, thrust his head so far into the
vessel that he was not able to get it out again. At this moment, the
soldier approached. The monkey started, in alarm, with the jar on his
head. This terrible monster frightened the poor soldier half out of his
wits. He thought it was a bloodthirsty Spanish grenadier, with a most
prodigious cap on his head. So he fired his musket, like any other
valiant soldier, roaring out, as loud as he could, that the enemy had
scaled the walls. The guards took the alarm; the drums were beaten;
signal guns discharged, and in less than ten minutes the whole garrison
were under arms. The supposed grenadier, being very uncomfortable in his
cap, was soon overtaken and seized; and by his capture, the
tranquillity of the garrison, as the reader might rationally conjecture,
was speedily restored, without any of the bloodshed which the sagacious
sentinel so much feared.
A clergyman in England, of some distinction, had a tame baboon, who was
very fond of him, and whenever he could get a chance, followed him in
the street. When he went to church, however, to perform the service, he
preferred, of course, that his monkey should stay at home, and used to
confine him accordingly. One Sabbath morning the animal escaped, and
followed his master to the church; and silently mounting the
sounding-board over the minister's head, he lay perfectly still till the
sermon commenced. Then he crept to the edge, where he could see his
master, and imitated his gestures in such a droll and amusing manner,
that the entire congregation began to laugh. The minister, who did not
see his favorite monkey, and who was surprised and confounded at this
unaccountable levity, rebuked the audience, but to no effect. The people
still laughed, and the preacher, in the warmth of his zeal, redoubled
his earnestness and action. The consequence was that the ape became more
animated too, and increased the number and violence of his gestures.
The congregation could no longer restrain themselves, and burst into a
long and loud roar of laughter.
Some of the ape-catchers of Africa have a very queer way of securing
these animals. It is said that they take a vessel filled with water out
into the woods with them, and wash their hands and faces in the water.
The apes see this operation. Afterward, the natives throw out the water
in which they washed, and supply its place by a solution of glue. Then
they leave the spot, and the apes come down from the trees, and wash
themselves, in the same manner as they have seen the men wash. The
consequence is, that the poor fellows get their eyes glued together so
fast that they cannot open them, and so being unable to see their way to
escape, they fall into the hands of their enemies.