76 THE CO AIT A. 



We may here trace another curious analogy between this automatic contraction of the 

 tail, and the well-known structure by which a bird is enabled to hold itself on its perch during 

 sleep. If the spider monkey's tail be drawn out till it is straightened, the tip immediately 

 curls round, and remains so until the member is suffered to return to its usual curve. Per- 

 haps one reason for this provision may be, that it is for the purpose of retaining the animal in 

 its arboreal residence, and guarding it against a fall. 



Still, it is a curious fact, and cannot be wholly accounted for on those grounds ; for the 

 monkeys of the Old World, although not gifted with prehensile tails, are quite as arboreal as 

 their brethren of the New, and consequently as liable to Eutychian casualties. It may be 

 remarked, en passant, that there are Preacher Monkeys in America, and consequently that 

 an especial provision against such misfortunes may be more requisite in Brazil than in Africa. 



In their native country, the spider monkeys may be seen in great profusion, swinging 

 from the tree-branches in groups, like bunches of enormous fruits. 



They are very lazy animals, and will sit, swing, or recline for hours in the strangest atti- 

 tudes without moving a limb ; just as if they were striving to emulate the Hindoo Fakirs in 

 their motionless penances. Such a propensity is the more curious, because the slight forms 

 of the animals, their long and slender limbs, and above all, their wonderful tail, would lead 

 us to anticipate the same singular swiftness and activity that are found in the gibbons. In 

 the American monkeys, however, we do not find the capacious chest and thin flanks which 

 mark out the character of the gibbons. 



Yet, when aroused by hunger or other sufficient motive, the spider monkeys can move 

 fast enough ; and in such a manner, that nothing without wings can follow them. In their 

 native land, the forests are so dense and so vast, that if it were not for the rivers which occa- 

 sionally cut their path through the dark foliage, the monkeys could travel for hundred of 

 miles without once coming to the ground. 



Not that the monkeys care very much for a river, provided that the distance between the 

 banks is not very great ; and as they detest going into the water, they most ingeniously con- 

 trive to get over without wetting a hair. The manner in which they are said to achieve this 

 feat of engineering is as follows. , 



When a marching troop, often amounting to a hundred or more, arrives at the bank of a 

 river, the principal body halts, while the oldest and most experienced of their band run 

 forward, and carefully reconnoitre the locality. After mature deliberation they fix on some 

 spot where the trees of the opposite banks incline riverwards, and approximate nearest to 

 each other. 



Running to the overhanging boughs, the most powerful monkeys twist their tails firmly 

 round the branch, and permit themselves to hang with their heads downwards. Another mon- 

 key then slides down the body of the first, twines his tail tightly round his predecessor, and 

 awaits his successor. In this way a long chain of monkeys is gradually formed, until the last, 

 who is always one of the strongest of the troop, is able to plant his paws on the ground. He 

 then begins to push the ground with his hands, so as to give the dependent chain a slight 

 oscillating movement, which is increased until he is able to seize a branch on the opposite side 

 of the river. 



Having so done, he draws himself gradually up the branches, until he finds one that is 

 sufficiently strong for the purpose in view, and takes a firm hold of it. The signal is then 

 given that all is ready, and the rest of the band ascend the tree, and cross the river by means 

 of this natural suspension bridge. 



So far, so good ! The monkeys run over the bridge easily enough ; but how is the bridge 

 itself to get over ? Their plight is very like that of the man who invented a system of iron 

 doors to be closed from the interior, and who, after closing them in the most admirable and 

 effectual manner, was obliged to open them again in order to get out. 



Still, whatever may be the case with human beings, when monkeys are clever enough to 

 make such a bridge, they are at no loss to achieve the passage of the bridge itself. 



Two or three of the stoutest keep themselves in reserve for this emergency, and, attaching 

 themselves to the last links of the living chain, relieve their comrade from his arduous task of 



